Chuck vs the CIA
by windsweptsilence
Summary: When the Chuck Crew locates a new assassin, it doesn't take long for them to discover the shocking truth- he was hired by the CIA. The real question is, why? Chuck/Sarah pairing
1. Wienerlicious: Disaster Zone

Chuck vs. the CIA

Disclaimer: I most definitely do not own any of the characters in this story..._sigh._

_A/N: Chuck/Sarah, with plenty of verbal abuse from Casey. You've gotta love him, right?_

"Hey, hey, buddy! A little help here?" Morgan wheezed, in the death grip of Casey's fingers.

"Casey! Put him down!" Chuck whisper shouted, eyes practically bugging out of his head. "We all know you'd just love to kill Morgan, you don't have to prove it!"

Casey slowly lowered him down, and Morgan collapsed. A small smile of malicious contentment lit up his face.

"Okay, okay, what did he do?" Chuck asked, in soothing tones, Casey's eyes still glaring with hatred at the motionless lump of scum laying on the Buy More floor.

"It talks." Chuck rolled his eyes, and left the murderous Casey to his own demons.

He walked out the door, heading over to the Wienerlicious. He paused a moment before entering, when he caught sight of Sarah, in all her glory, in the demeaning ethnic outfit, rotating burnt hot dogs. God, was she ever perfect.

"Hey," he said, casually walking into the restaurant. Her eyes lit up for a moment, and she smiled, happy as ever. Remembering the professional side of her job, she cleared her throat, and tried to look down to business.

"Is something wrong? Did you flash?" she asked. For once, Chuck wished there was something else she could ask him first.

"No, but I'm allowed to get hungry, right? I've been in the mood for some gourmet… erm… wieners," he said, eyeing the burnt pieces of God knows what, on the verge of setting off the smoke alarm.

"Then why in the world would you come when I was on the cooking shift?" Sarah asked, the warm gleam entering her features again. Thank God. Nothing was wrong.

"Yeah, you might wanna take those little buggers off the high heat now, huh," Chuck suggested, and after smiling at him, Sarah turned around and groaned.

"Oh my God! Ugh! That's the third batch I've ruined today," she said, her head in her hands. "You'd think the number one agent in the CIA could at least manage to roast hot dogs without burning the store down." Chuck took her hands in his, not thinking. She laid her head against his, feeling his cheek. She became suddenly aware of a customer in the store, and broke away, flushing. Chuck awkwardly stepped back, and avoided the eyes of the man now buying hot dogs. Instead, his eyes fell on the pin attached to the vest pocket of his black leather jacket, and images rushed to his eyes without warning. _A table of people in formal outfits… an explosion… a fake passport with several different identities… a safari scene in Africa, and a man thrown from the top of a building…_

Sarah became aware of the glazed over look in Chuck's eyes, and her mind began working on high speed to create a distraction. When the man looked down at his watch, she flung the ketchup across the floor.

"Oh, no! Please excuse me, one moment. Mr. Carmichael, will you please help me reach get some more ketchup?" She cast a meaningful glance toward Chuck.

"Hey, lady, I'm on a tight schedule. Skip the ketchup, and get going." He checked his watch again, and glared at Sarah. It was all she could do not to point a gun to his head then and there. _Wow, _she thought_, I must be pretty strung out if I'm thinking like Casey._

She did her best to smile innocently. "I'm sorry, sir, but the Wienerlicious is dedicated to complete customer satisfaction. I'll have your ketchup ready as soon as possible." She dragged Chuck into the storage room. He was eyeing the man with such fear, she knew it couldn't be good. "Spill it."

"Edward Blonning." Chuck shuddered. "Major assassin. Works for whoever, reportedly has no soul. He just returned from Africa, and has orders to eliminate a board of diplomats in Sacramento."

"Who hired him, Chuck? Chuck?" Sarah's harshness turned into concern.

"I'm- I'm really not sure, it was unclear, I saw but it…" he looked down. He really wished he was better at lying. Sarah obviously saw right through it.

"The- the CIA."

--

Leaving Chuck in the closet, Sarah crept into the front of the store. From her vantage point, she could see Blonning, but he couldn't see her. He looked extremely irritated. "Hey, lady, cut the makeout session, and gimme my damn hot dog." Sarah had meant to attack immediately, as was obvious from her stance, and the way her glock was pointed directly at Blonning's head, but she was lost in thought. Her original plan was to cuff him, and somehow smuggle him into the home theater room, but she wondered if she should just kill him on the spot, and discretely deposit the body somewhere. But why would the CIA hire an assassin the kill Californian diplomats? There had to be an underlying meaning, but to use a rogue killer? She sighed. And then she realized she really shouldn't have sighed. Blonning shifted to the right, a puzzled expression on his face. They locked eyes, and the fight began.

--Chuck had been shaking in the closet, wondering why he couldn't be the teeniest bit more stable after being so caught up in federal agencies for so long, when he heard the first loud noise. Was it a chair being broken over someone's head, or maybe a table being thrown across the room? _Oh God not Sarah…oh, God, not Sarah… he kept chanting those four words in his head, he didn't even notice when he started saying them out loud._

_--Sarah and Blonning stopped dead when they heard the desperate whispers in the closet. Blonning had had leverage, but Sarah gained her ground back until they were even- walking delicately in a circle, guns out. _

"_So, what about your little boy toy, Mr. … what was it? Carmichael?" Thank God I didn't give out his real name, Sarah thought thankfully. "Is he in on this, too? And how did you recognize me?"_

"_I don't recognize you. I just prepare myself when people carrying 9 mm pistols come into my store." _

"_Who are you, and who do you work for, Blondie? And don't say Wienerlicious, we both know you're much more than a hot dog seller. As for me? I'm a world famous assassin, who sold his soul to the devil for a dime." Blonning laughed darkly. "Well, now that I think of it, I remember it being much more than a dime."_

_--Chuck noticed the silence. Already, he could picture Sarah's dead body, and Blonning walking out of the store triumphantly. What if Sarah was in trouble? And he was just sitting in the closet? But then again, he couldn't really do anything but screw everything up, since that's what he tended to do whenever he left the safe spot he was supposed to be in. It always ended up okay, though, he reassured himself, and got the courage to open the door a crack…_

_--Sarah had just swung a powerful roundhouse kick to the back of Blonning's head when he suddenly grabbed both her arms behind her back and, grimacing at his major headache, twisted them up until her gun fell. He was about to grab it, when both agents stopped at the sound of a door creaking open. _

"_Shut the damn door, before I go over and shut it for you!" Sarah growled, as Blonning, laughing at the terrified face that peeked out, lost control, and Sarah had just enough time to shove her knee up into his groin, and land a couple of well-placed punches. _

"_Run, Chuck!" she screamed. "Get Casey!" _

_-- "Get Casey, get Casey, get Casey, get Casey!" Chuck repeated to himself as he shot into the Buy More, and began running in circles until he literally ran into the wall of an agent. _

"_Watch it, Bartowski," Casey growled, glaring at the pathetic little nerd that stood before him. _

"_Emergency, Casey, major emergency!" Chuck screeched, stuttering. Casey's eyes widened. _

"_Hey, Chuck, we've got a problem," Big Mike boomed from three aisles down. "I don't care about whatever it is you're screamin' about, but we've got a customer and only two useless boneheads to help her." Lester and Jeff cleared their throats, and Big Mike rolled his eyes. _

"_Wienerlicious," Chuck choked out, and Casey jogged out of the store heroically. _

"_We aren't totally useless boneheads," Lester told Chuck. "Give us another hour and a manual of basic computer programming, and it's a possibility we could actually solve this puppy." _

_--Casey stared at the Wienerlicious in amusement and horror. It was a bad decision the executive store manager made the day when he hired Sarah. The entire store was in disarray- tables cracked in half, windows broken, chairs split over counters, and rubble everywhere, covered in a thin layer of hot dog grease. Sarah sat on the front step outside, her head in her hands. She only had three words to say, and Casey already knew them even before they were out of her mouth._

"_He got away."_

_This is my first fanfic, and I don't really think I captured the characters very well, but I'm working on it. Hopefully, my Chuck writings will improve in later chapters. Thanks for reading!_


	2. Indecision

A/N: _Updates should be coming quick after this weekend- I wrote this chapter in about twenty minutes, and if the next few are the same, I'll have plenty more posted in the next month._

Sarah stared at the bubbly bath tub in her apartment for a moment, before climbing in. She sighed as she wiggled her toes in pleasure, not being able to remember the last time she'd had a good, old-fashioned bubble bath. She made a mental note to do it more often.

Wishing she'd invested in a CD player or an iPod, she chewed on her lip as the water slowly became lukewarm. Nothing could take her mind off what had happened in the Weinerlicious, but that didn't mean she wouldn't try. Humming to herself for a few seconds, she then stopped and wondered what the hell she was doing. _This isn't me, _she thought wryly. _Screw Sarah Walker. Me? Stop and take a calming bath? Never._ Slowly, stretching as she went, she climbed out of the soapy tub and wrapped herself in a towel. And with that, any of the little peace she'd felt before was gone.

Casey didn't know the origin of Blonning, unless Chuck had told him. Sarah prayed to whatever's up there that Chuck hadn't told him… yet. Although he would have to know soon enough. But if she wasn't the one to tell him, Casey would think she was in on it, that she was hiding something and had dastardly intentions, and most likely murder her in a not-so-peachy fasion. _Lovely._

Even before, life had been less complicated. No attachments, no strings, get the job done and get it done quickly. _Before. _Before was another time, and she would have to stop concentrating on the past. _And what now, Ms. Walker? _Her conscience sneered. _Maybe the reason you linger on the past is because you don't know what the hell you're doing now. _Damn voice.

To prove herself wrong, she threw on the first (matching) clothes she found in her large closet, got in her car, and drove back to the Buy More. Scene of the crime. Chuck had graciously helped her clean up the Weinerlicious- well, what could be cleaned. She could blame the holes in the wall and the broken on vandals. After all, what could a defenseless, demeaningly_-_dressed, underpaid-and-overworked Weinerlicious girl do, when cornered by those nasty neighborhood crime-committers? Just thinking about it, she fingered the 9mm in her pocket.

Chuck saw Sarah, and for once, his face didn't light up. Neither did his body stiffen, or blood flow to his cheeks. Okay, maybe he blushed a little, but how could he not? Even when he wasn't sure he wanted to see her, his body still did. She was pretty easy on the eyes. He took his time wending over her way, and it seemed to him like she followed suit. She stopped briefly at the iPod display, and that was a total giveaway. What interest could she have in one of those?

"You figured anything out yet?" he asked, tentatively. Hopefully.

"Nothing," she said, a touch of stressful sadness in her eyes. Casey had obviously observed the meeting, and no one leaves John Casey out.

"Home theater room," he announced. "Now." Chuck could see how much Sarah objected to the authoritative tone in his voice. He layed a hand on her arm, almost like restraining her. She glanced at him, rather surprised. Casey, tired of the emotional exchange without words they were having, snorted and grabbed Chuck by the ear, pulling him along. Casey didn't do emotional.

"Ow, ow, ow, you can let go now, ow, ow, ow, ow! Casey! Get a hold of yourself!" Chuck commanded. Such a shame he had so little authority in _his_ voice.

They had barely closed the door to the home entertainment room when Casey glared, and said, "I don't know what you're keeping from me, but I'm warning you, conspiring against me won't get you anywhere." To Chuck's surprise, Sarah stepped forward immediately. He had expected the little I've-got-a-secret-and-you-don't-know-what-it-is dance that they often feel the need to do.

"The assassin- Edward Blonning- was sent by the CIA." She took a deep breath, and the line seemed rehearsed. Chuck saw the not-so-well-concealed shock on Casey's face.

"You're sure?" he asked, ignoring Chuck as usual. Chuck expected this to be one of those Casey/Sarah meetings, where they more or less pretended he wasn't there.

"Has Chuck ever been wrong?" Sarah stated more than asked. But no, of course no reference to him being in the room. _Yep, just keep talking about me in the third person. Uh, if you don't mind, I think I'll take a little nappy while you guys work out the things where I'm my opinion is of, apparently, no worth._ Chuck rolled his eyes. _Actually, those chairs do look kinda comfy…_

"_What do we do?" Casey asked, as plaintive as his voice ever got. That was when Sarah's composure and straight face more or less broke down, as if she feared hearing the question._

"_I have no idea."_


	3. Not Just a Walk Through the Woods

"Let's take this to a more private location," Casey growled under his breath. "Don't want any of these nerdy screw-ups that work here to overhear this."

"Excuse me?"

"He wasn't talking about you, Chuck."

"Oh." Chuck sighed lightly, and sat on the couch. He didn't know whether to be insulted or not. Sarah smiled at him, but his eyes were glued on Casey, peeking through the shade that had been pulled down to conceal them in the home theater room. She wondered what Chuck was thinking. She always did.

"I'll take him to my prime location, and you can make sure no one's following," Casey said to Sarah, and she nodded as a reply.

Chuck cocked his head. "You mean your …home?"

Casey shrugged. "Whatever you want to call it." While Chuck shook his head in mock sorrow, the cogs beneath Sarah's blonde hair began to turn.

"No. I'll take Chuck. You can be the one to shoot anyone who looks like they're following us." She gave Chuck a meaningful glance, and kicked him under the table. Which was a little harder than your average little tip-of-the-toe kick, and she almost rolled her eyes as he gasped in pain, and instinctively grabbed his injured shin. "Chuck? Something wrong?" she asked through closed teeth. Casey folded his hands, and put his feet on top of the table.

"Chuck, we all know you're a Mommy's boy, but Daddy promises he'll give you a new toy if you come with him today. After all, it looks like Mommy's playing dirty," he said, grinning with superiority. Somewhat like a dangerous, feral jungle cat, Chuck noted, wincing.

"Fine! Whatever, Casey. Take me into your custody today, then." He held up his hands in as a sign of defeat, and followed Casey out the door. He almost neglected to see Sarah's plaintive look, but turned around just in time to miss her anguished mouthed words, "Chuck! Wait!"

Once in Casey's new black Volvo, he felt the auto-lock go on as soon as all the doors were closed. And the child lock, on his door.

"You think you're taking this metaphor a little bit too far, there, _Daddy_?" Chuck asked, trying half-heartedly to open up his door, his window, his anything… hell, Casey had a lock that kept his seatbelt from coming undone.

"Not at all. All for your protection." Although he was used to his short replies, Chuck sensed an undertone in these words.

"Protection from what?"

"Oh, the usual. Everything." Casey backed out of the parking lot, cruising casually down the highway at a mere 90 mph. "You know, you're a pretty high-maintenance little charge."

"You don't trust Sarah, do you?"

"Not for a moment."

Sarah zoomed away from the Buy More, testing her speedometer's limits. More than one enraged highway driver had the nerve to give her the finger, but she had more important things on her agenda. The GPS equipment led her further and further into the hills surrounding location, but with confidence, she trudged on into the secluded, forest-filled area. She knew bugging Casey's Volvo this morning would come in handy, someday.

Her cell phone went off, and she automatically slowed down. Digging through her bag, one hand on the wheel on the curvy roads, she made a rare decision to let it go to voicemail. After all, the GPS said she was almost at her destination, and once she'd found Casey (with Chuck in tow), not a lot else would matter. Not much mattered, beyond her job- and those two people gave a pretty good definition of what her job included.

Sarah's rigid shoulders relaxed as she saw the one-mile mark go by on the little LCD screen she'd been watching steadily for the past half hour. It was an interesting choice for a secret headquarters, but she had to admit, Casey's spontaneity was admirable. She didn't know he was into woodsy places, but then again, there wasn't much she did know about her reclusive, secretive partner. Beyond, of course, that blowing people's brains out gave him far too much pleasure for a professional.

She had thought relief would flood her when she finally caught sight of the bugged car, but instead, it was pure confusion. The only car in sight was a maroon Toyota Sienna LE, and the only people in sight were four campers, setting up a tent. Just in case, though…

"Everybody freeze!" Sarah shouted, bringing her gun out in front of her. And, the customary reaction was no different than usual- they froze.

"We didn't know this was illegal camping ground when we set out on this trip! Just because it's a state animal reserve doesn't mean we should be arrested for setting up a tent! We had no idea…" the frantic mother's voice trailed off as she saw Sarah's expression. Slightly murderous, distraught, and _shut the hell up_ was written pretty clearly in her eyes.

"I don't give a damn about whatever it is you're talking about," Sarah stated as calmly as she possibly could. "Do any of you know about the whereabouts of John Casey or Chuck Bartowski?" And as they stared at her as blankly as a school of fish, she got back in the car and began to drive away- but not before listening to the short voicemail on her phone.

It was from Casey.

"_Gotcha."_

"Okay, Casey, that was NOT nice," Chuck stated, thinking about poor Sarah stuck in the mountains. Casey tightened his seatbelt in response. "Well, neither was that."

"Agent Walker can't be trusted." Casey pulled into his own driveway. "She's CIA, CIA's sending out assassins, assassins are bad." He turned to lock his eyes with Chuck. "So Walker must be bad."

"Wait…why did you head straight to the place you said you'd be? And should you really be telling me how bad assassins are? I know who I'm talking to, _Mr. John "Kills_-_people" Casey!_"

Casey got out of the car, and checked himself, the car, and Chuck for bugs. "We don't want to keep Walker away forever, just long enough to work out a plan."

"Don't you think you should… _trust_ each other by now? I mean, we're, like, the Chuck Crew! Chuck, Sarah, and Casey- us three are, like, the three blind mice!" At Casey's questioning-yet-somehow-still-murderous stare, Chuck backed up. "Or, maybe, Charlie's angels! Piper, Phoebe, and Paige from Charmed!" Casey felt the need to interrupt Chuck's 'genius'.

"Why are all these groups feminine? There should be one male member."

"Well…wait…hey!" Chuck glared a moment at Casey, but he was too busy setting up equipment that does god-knows-what to notice. "Aren't we supposed to be working out a plan, not putting spiky things with spiky attachments on your kitchen table?" The doorbell rang. Both men stiffened, and locked eyes with each other. "Well, Casey, your house…you should go see who's a-knockin' at your door."

Chuck watched him lightly walk to the door, making little-to-no sound, for his muscular build. He

watched him switch on the camera located just above the head of the person who wanted to enter. He also watched him watch his sister, Ellie, poised to ring the doorbell again. "Oh, crap."

Casey cracked the door open. "Hello, Ellie," he said, sticking his head out. "Chuck just came over to, uh, help me with some inventory processes for the new computers at the Buy More." Chuck took that as his cue to hide all the spiky-looking things covering the table and couch. But how? _God, Casey, where do you get all these torture tools?! Hmm, kinky, this one looks like it's got more agendas than just torture… _

"Ow!" Chuck blew on his bleeding finger. Casey shot him another one of those priceless murderous glares. _I'll treasure that forever, there, Case. _"Whoopsss, I, um, tripped over your, um, coffee table, Casey. _Sharp edges, _that one has."

"Chuck?" He heard his sister's voice.

"We'll be done in a few minutes. Is there something you wanted?" Casey said, more or less as pleasantly as he could. Chuck noted that it sounded almost human.

"If you'd like, you could drop by for dinner- we, I mean, Devon and I, cooked some of my mother's favorite recipes, but it isn't any fun if there's no one to share them with, right?" Casey's head nodded and nodded and nodded. Chuck guessed he had that sadistic grin on his face.

"Yes, I think that would be great. Don't you think so, Chuck?" Chuck wasn't so sure why Casey sounded so enthused about this, but could hardly disagree in this situation.

"Yeah. Great. Just great." _He, _however, was never too enthused when anyone from his _other _world intruded on family life. Even Sarah (although s_he_ was much more pleasant to have around).

"We'll be over there as soon as we're done, Ellie. Wouldn't miss it for the world." Chuck grew more and more worried by the minute. Whatever was on Casey's agenda, he was sure it wasn't some homemade meatloaf and mashed potatoes.


	4. Some Interesting Discoveries

As she made her way down the damn mountain, Sarah's phone began to ring again. This time, she wouldn't dare let it go to voicemail.

Her heart skipped a beat. Or two. Or three. The caller was Chuck.

As soon as she was breathing again, she picked up the phone and hit send. "Chuck, where the hell are you?" So much for a calm beginning. Sarah did wince a little at the impact of her words.

"Sarah- I tried to call before- Casey wouldn't- I, um…" the line was dead silent for a few moments. Sarah figured Casey must have entered the room during the call. "Come to Ellie's. She's making us dinner. I think we need it for our cover- it's been a while since we've been together for a non-work related reason. Even though that's work related. Oh, you know what I mean!"

Sarah picked up the exasperation in Chuck's voice. "I'll be there as soon as I can. But tell Casey…" she paused a moment to try to put her thoughts into words.

"Yes?"

"Tell Casey to go to hell, but not before I get to him." Satisfied, Sarah hung up. Then swore, and held her head in her hands. She re-dialed.

Chuck sighed softly, and turned to Casey. "Sarah said to go to hell, but not before she gets to you. I'd watch my back if I were you, buddy."

"Don't call me buddy."

"Point taken." Chuck was just putting his phone back in his pocket when it began ringing again. He didn't need to look at the front screen to know it was Sarah, again.

"Sarah?"

"I'm glad you're okay, Chuck." _Me, too, _he thought sarcastically. But he had to admit- he was touched. It was just that these rare signs of borderline-affection that he almost dreaded. They always blind-sided him, and he got more and more confused as their "relationship" went on.

"Thanks, Sarah. I'm glad you are, too." He disconnected, wincing at his cowardice. Not only was he not even brave enough to try to tackle a serious, happy-that-you-aren't-dead-(yet) conversation with Sarah, but he'd also taken the words right out of Casey's mouth to lure her into a public place where she could easily be fed information, or tempted to give up anything she knew. Casey had assured Chuck that Sarah was a cheap drunk. Chuck didn't want to believe it, but did he do anything about it? No. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

"Pathetic," Casey let Chuck know. "Just pathetic." Chuck's face showed momentary confusion.

"You wanna stop insulting me long enough to tell why, Casey? Or is it simply too tempting?"

"Whatever you and Walker have going on is flat-out strange. Next time you decide to have an intimate conversation, I suggest you turn off your speakerphone." Chuck blushed, but not for long. Casey got up and began to walk out of the room, turning around to say, "And whatever's happening in that bedroom? Don't forget I'm _always _listening. _Always."_ He gave Chuck a hearty pat on the back, which provoked a short coughing fit from Chuck.

"You know, Casey, that's pretty darn creepy. I think you'd make a great stalker." Casey didn't seem like he was listening, because there was no demeaning quip in reply. "Casey? Where'd you go?" Chuck wandered around Casey's house aimlessly for a moment, half-heartedly trying to find a guy who was capable of being pretty hard to find. He then saw the closed bedroom door, and decided to take a rare peek around while, for once, Casey wasn't monitoring his every move. That was pretty scary, too.

The house didn't have too much to it, as Chuck soon discovered. A bunch of monitoring equipment, a heckuva lot more spiky things hidden in somewhat conspicuous places, and a ton of empty pizza boxes occupied most of the space. Chuck took a peek in the cabinet beneath the TV, to see how the reclusive agent entertained himself on that big screen, other than being in high-def, top secret meetings with his superiors. And, hidden conspicuously in some non-labeled DVD boxes were a bunch of also high-def pornos.

The smart thing to do would've been to giggle in his secret discovery, and put them back. Chuck realized this later. However, what he did was take all of them out and begin reading the titles aloud.

"Impressive collection here, Case!" he shouted over in the direction of the bedroom. "Nice…Nighttime in Father Rochter's Confessional, Victoria's Secret (No Longer), Fun in the Dark, Naughty and Naughtier, From the Bedroom of a Sex God, Sins of Atlanta… eclectic tastes, maybe, but I had no idea-" Chuck was cut off by hands around his neck. "Never saw them. Never saw anything. Casey doesn't like porn," he wheezed, now up against the wall. His feet hung limp, trying to kick, but without a lot of momentum. "Okay…okay…that's enough, I think…Chuck's learned his lesson, I won't ever look through your house again…"

Casey glared up at Chuck, and shook his head. He had to admit, he was somewhat amused. But not enough to let Chuck go, just yet. He began to grin, which only anguished Chuck more. "You never saw any of that. Got it? Or else next time, I shove my foot down your throat before I hold you up against the wall." He dropped Chuck mercilessly, and watched him lie, motionless but for the wheezing. "Oh, and if you mention it to Walker? I don't care if you're the fucking intersect, I _will _lodge a _very _large bullet in that super-computer mind of yours." Satisfied with his threatening, Casey walked away, going into his room to fix his tie. Chuck needed to be put back in his place, sometimes.

Sarah couldn't get to Ellie's house fast enough. She climbed in through Chuck's window, and checked herself over in the mirror._ Just to make sure there's nothing suspicious,_ she told herself as she began to walk out. She met Chuck at the door- well, rather, ran into Chuck at the door. He gave a strange little squeaking noise that, despite her best intentions, made her giggle.

"God, Sarah, you almost gave me a heart attack," he said, and then almost under his breath, "For the second time today." He automatically massaged his neck. She smiled in apology, hoping that was enough. She always wanted to say much more than she did. But then she saw Casey.

"You," she hissed menacingly, she hoped. It had been a while since she'd properly struck fear into someone's soul, she hoped she hadn't lost her touch. "What the hell were you thinking?" She was pleased when she saw Casey's expression. Did it have a tiny hint of fear? Maybe.

"I don't know, but I'd advise you watch Chuck a little more closely, next time." Sarah flinched at the words _next time. _She didn't want to think about a _next time. _"Did you really think I'd trust you, Walker? Do you really think I trust you, even now?" He glared intensely at her. They were eye to eye, only inches apart.

"I should hope you do. You have information, and I have information." It was a little lie on Sarah's part, but she was sure she could come up with something. "If we don't work together on this, nothing's ever going to come together…so I suggest we start. Now." Even though she was talking about working together, she tried to put as much iciness in her words as possible.

"Well, I suggest we get in there. Now. Before Ellie gets jealous of this exclusive meeting, and decides she wants to be in on it," Chuck interjected, before they could fight anymore. "We only need so much togetherness, we don't need my family to get involved." Both agents instantly obeyed. Chuck smiled, briefly. It felt good to be listened to, for once.

"Sarah! I'm so glad you made it!" Ellie gushed, enveloping her in one of her traditionally tight hugs. It really made Sarah feel like she belonged…which she immediately felt guilty about.

"Ellie, I wouldn't miss your cooking and company for the world," she answered, smiling brightly.

"Chuck, you could take a few hints from your girlfriend regarding praising my cooking," Ellie chastised, teasing.

"Well, obviously, Sarah hasn't had an opportunity to eat your famous up-chuck-chalupas," Chuck countered back. He laid his hand on her arm in what he hoped was an affectionate manner. "Really, that's something you would rather miss."

Ellie snorted. "Oh, come on… they're weren't _that _bad!"

Chuck shook his head in sorrow. He stage-whispered to Casey and Sarah, "That nickname was given for a reason, and there's a very good reason why." Sarah supposed Ellie had come up with a snappy comeback, but she wasn't really paying as much attention to what they said as how much fun they were obviously having. She laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Chuck's family would be sorely missed upon reassignment…but no more than Chuck himself. She shoved the thought from her mind, not wanting it to ruin her evening. Because without exception, it always did.

Devon came up, and joined the friendly banter. "What are you guys talking about? Those chalupas were _awesome!"_ Ellie rolled her eyes, but her love for him was apparent, even in that gesture. Sarah often envied her, mostly for what she had in Devon. Sure, he might seem a bit shallow, but Ellie sure didn't seem to mind.

"I don't know about anyone else, but all this talk of sickening Mexican food is absolutely ruining my appetite," Casey joked. To Sarah's surprise, it came out completely natural, and there was a chorus of laughter. "Devon? You wanna fix me up with a drink? It was a long day…in fact, I think we should all have one," he suggested, innocently enough. Chuck's face fell, but Sarah didn't notice. She agreed so much that she didn't bother protesting, either. In fact, some alcohol would be pretty nice…

"Devon? Make me something heavy," she asked. "I think I need it."

No one seemed to notice how Chuck looked plaintively at Sarah, wishing he had some type of telepathic powers. No, all he had was a stupid computer in his brain that locked him into a lifestyle he still wasn't sure he wanted. But he had to embrace it, now. Yet he couldn't think of a good excuse to tell Sarah why she shouldn't have a drink, and could only let her fall into Casey's trap.


	5. Dinner, Drunks, and Overall Disaster

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of these lovely characters, or intend to steal them- only borrow them._

"So, Sarah, with no offense to you, how does a pretty, intelligent girl like you end up working at a Weinerlicious?" Ellie asked politely.

Sarah blanched, then covered it up quickly with a very forced smile. "I-"

"Oh, I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, you don't need to answer," Ellie quickly backed up. Suddenly, both Chuck and Casey were staring at her intensely, while Ellie and Devon glanced at her in vague interest. Sarah winced internally. She hated being the center of attention.

"No, it's no problem, Ellie- it just reminded me how I, um, really need to think about what I want to do with my life. You see, I've always put my job behind everything else that was on my plate- loved ones, family, the like," she lied through her teeth. She hoped her glare towards Casey wasn't too noticeable. By the way he was eyeing her, he looked very interested in what she had to say.

Casey had to admit, he was getting more and more amused every time a word escaped Sarah's lips. Maybe it was the martinis that were starting to get to her, or maybe it was how much she obviously admired Chuck and his family, and never wanted to disappoint. Maybe it was even a wild attempt to keep up the slightly slipping cover, but no matter what the case, she was revealing more and more about what she would've liked her life to be like.

He grunted in approval. "You seem like the sort of person who would tend to let loved ones get in the way of her job," he said, a certain edge to his voice that sent a chill up Sarah's spine. And by the way her eyes widened and lips tightened, he knew he had hit his mark.

"Well, I'm sure that's not what she meant-" Ellie interrupted, wanting to alleviate the tension. But Sarah and Casey would have none of it. Chuck put his head in his hands. It would be a long night.

"Actually, no, Ellie, Casey was right," Sarah admitted, a tad sarcastic. Sarcastic enough for Ellie and Devon to notice. "But unlike Mr. Casey, I know what I want, but am willing to _compromise_ to get it."

"I disagree, _Sarah. _I don't know if you really do know what you want. Because, it seems to me, you're always pushing _him _away." Sarah felt looked a baseball had been hit into her stomach. Luckily, she observed that Chuck hadn't seemed to notice the slip in pronoun usage. Or had it been a slip?

She quickly recovered, though. "Hmm, well, I'm capable of doing so, Casey, and not getting tied up- or should we say, _handcuffed to, _whatever's keeping you from doing _your _job." Casey growled under his breath. If she brought up Prague one more time…

Ellie and Devon watched in horror, as well as confusion, as the two continued to rip each other apart. They had been under the impression that Casey and Sarah were mutual friends, more or less united through the bond of Chuck. Casey was his colleague, and Sarah was his girlfriend. Ellie pushed her hair back behind her ear, annoyed. She hated being at a party where two members disliked each other enough, she didn't need to be hosting one. Chuck could have at least warned her- the two were his guests, really.

"Enough!" Chuck almost had to shout. "Get a hold of yourselves! Just take a break and think about at what you've been saying!" He panted, and caught his breath. "Trust, people! I thought this was about trust!"

Casey and Sarah looked sheepish, for a moment. They had definitely raised their voices, and were trying to talk over each other until the other would shut up. Problem was, neither of them had been willing to. Sarah blushed darkly. She had tried to impress Chuck's family, but not just to uphold their cover. It really was important to her, what they thought. Heck, by now, they were practically her family.

Casey had the expression of a kid being refused for an extra piece of cake, or a teenager being told they couldn't go out to the movies. He had the strong, strong urge to glare at Walker, but figured he had done enough damage. So instead of smiling sardonically at the sight of her blushing, he simply gave a cold calculating look, before he knew what he had to do.

"I am so, so sorry," he apologized, pretending to be too shameful to look anyone in the eye. Honestly, he wasn't sure if he could keep up the charade well enough to. "I don't know what got into me. Sarah? My deepest apologies. I take back every word I said. I just hope I haven't ruined our little party, here." There. He had beat her to the punch. It would surely tick her off that someone who hadn't meant a word of it would be the first to show any sign of remorse.

Sarah felt that awful feeling in her gut again. The only reason Casey could possibly be apologizing would be to add insult to the injury he'd already done. "I…I don't even know what to say. I can't believe I just did that," she said, shaking her head. Maybe if she called up some tears, it would make her apology seem more real, although, she had to give it to him, Casey's sure did. "Casey, I hope you can forgive me. I'm just so overwhelmed…" There. Nailed it. She began crying softly into her bare palms. All it took was thinking about Chuck, and any of the bad things that could possibly happen between them. And there were plenty of those to imagine.

Before she knew it, she felt Chuck's warm arms around her. Either he was really on with their cover tonight, or he felt enough protective instinct to do it naturally. Sarah wasn't sure which she'd prefer.

"Oh, I know, sweetheart," he said, breathlessly. "The past few weeks have been so tough, I know- after, erm, Nippy died." Sarah almost stopped her crying charade to look incredulously up at him. Who the hell was Nippy? Oh, god, Chuck, don't get too into this. To her relief, he explained without her having to say a word. "Nippy was Sarah's puppy," he said softly to the other three members of the table. "He was only a month old- the cutest little yellow lab you'd ever seen." Sarah had to admit, he knew her well. She had always dreamed of owning a dog- yellow lab in particular. "He passed away a few weeks ago-" he lowered his voice to a whisper, obviously in an attempt to not upset Sarah any further, "-hit by a delivery truck." At this point, Sarah recognized it was her turn, and began to wail even louder.

Devon walked over, and began to pat Sarah comfortingly on the back. "Dude, that is so not-awesome," he remarked gravely.

Casey felt the most massive urge to laugh than he had in weeks. The only thing more ridiculous than Walker caring more about family members than her job was this absurd story Bartowski was cooking up. He finally cracked and, trying not to lose the grace he had achieved earlier with his apology, was forced to also burst into tears, rather than risk looking insensitive and cold at Walker's obvious "distress."

"I'm…sorry…it's…just….so…sad!" He wailed, Ellie, Devon, Chuck, and Sarah looking over toward him in varying looks of horror (Chuck), pity (Ellie), confusion (Devon), and disdain (Guess Who).

Chuck couldn't resist. "Aw, Casey, do you want me to come over there and hug you, too?" Sarah snorted loudly. Casey looked murderous.

"Chuck! Where are your manners!" Ellie Bartowski cried, and put her head in her hands. "I can't even remember the last time I had a dinner party this disastrous!" Suddenly, Awesome was there, holding her hand.

Chuck knew what he had to do. "Can I have everyone's attention?" Sarah and Casey and, now, Ellie stopped wailing long enough to turn their tear-streaked cheeks toward Chuck. "Can we just put all of this behind us long enough to eat dinner, and maybe even have a good time?" Everyone looked doubtful, but everyone but Casey perked up a little bit at Chuck's smiling face.

"I'll go get the chicken out of the oven, it's probably burned by now," Ellie sniffled, and reluctantly got out of her seat to go put on her oven mitts.

"Casey…" Sarah began. He looked up expectantly, having already wiped all signs of crying from his face, and replaced it with his general apathetic expression. "Can you pass the tissues?" She wiped away a single tear, rolling down the side of her nose. "Now."

"Fine."

A sullen Edward Blonning walked out of a dark alley, making little sound beyond the padding of his Asics on the ground. He longed to get a shower. That bitch in the hot dog shop had stained his favorite suit with her damn hot dog grease, stinking up the air around him. Usually people found him menacing and unapproachable. Today, however, after the incident, several cocky bastards had come up to him and wanted to know how much he'd charge for _his _wiener. Sick freaks.

He pressed a button on his watch, bringing it up to his mouth inconspicuously after re-entering the alley.

"Reporting at 19:00 hours, have been identified," he morosely testified to the receiver on the other end. "Motive to attack indiscernible. Possibility of discovery of mission unclear. One thing for sure; don't piss off the hot dog girl." After all, even paid assassins have bad days. However, his was about to get worse. Much worse.

A pack of wild dogs loomed at the entrance of the alley, while Blonning fussed with his watch and paid them no attention. He hummed a dismal tune as he walked, wondering if the blonde knew anything about him beyond what he had told her. If not, the mission should still be secure. Upon nearing the dogs, he was viciously attacked. Another thing for sure about his day- don't mess with canines when you have the unmistakable aroma of hot dog grease stinking up the air around you.

The rest of the dinner went pretty smoothly, from Chuck's perspective. He noticed a rigid politeness between Sarah and Casey, but no matter how rigid, it was still preferable to their fighting beforehand. Ellie and Awesome were doing their job as best as they could, and all their jokes, stories, and punch lines were spot on. Chuck tried to laugh with the rest of them, but kept up his illusion of happiness just for Ellie. Sarah wasn't quite drunk…but she was well on her way. The not-so-friendly banter between her and Casey had originally stopped the martinis from coming, but then re-started the orders with a new vigor. She had just downed her fifth when Chuck suggested they pack it in, and she was definitely a little wobbly.

"Sarah? Do you want to stay tonight?" Chuck asked, feeling as if Casey had a gun to his back as he was asking it. After all, it was his plan, his script Chuck was following.

Sarah, unable at the time to think of a good reason not to at the time, fervently agreed. Awesome slipped Chuck a double thumbs up when Sarah wasn't looking, and Chuck returned it, with a sarcastic grin. He wasn't in the mood. Besides, it was Casey's house they were sneaking off to once Ellie and Awesome were in bed, and that wasn't so romantic or raunchy.

Once in the bedroom, Chuck knew it was going to take some convincing on his part to get Sarah out of the bedroom and out of them window, across the courtyard, then into Casey's house.

"Sarah, please. You know we have to. It's an important meeting."

"No. I'm staying right here- you can tell Casey to kiss my ass." And with that, the now visibly (and audibly) drunken Sarah flopped down on Chuck's bed, with no intention of moving. It was like convincing a kid to leave his presents alone on Christmas morning.

"Okay, then. Am I going to have to carry you out the window?" Chuck asked, hoping against hope she was enough herself to recognize how undignified it would be to have to have Chuck carry her.

No such luck. "Yes," she said, giggling like he'd never heard her giggle before.

Chuck sighed deeply, then began to attempt something he'd never dreamt he would try. "Upsy-daisy then, Sarah Bear," he said, lifting her up off the bed. To be totally honest with himself, he had expected her to be lighter. "Wow- lots of muscle, there, honey bun," he grunted, putting one foot out the window. She giggled again, and Chuck hoped Ellie and Awesome wouldn't come in and see this strange exchange.

"One more foot over, then," he said, mainly to himself. She was barely coherent, but seemed to get plenty of pleasure from being carried. And Chuck had to admit, with her head nestled so calmly in the crook of his heck, it wasn't the worst position in the world to be in.

As soon as Chuck rang Casey's doorbell, a camera flashed.

"What the heck was that?" Chuck asked, confused and tired. He rubbed his eyes, his vision now blurred with little colorful specks.

Casey grinned satirically. "That, Chuck, was a moment that Agent Walker will, now, never forget."

_A/N: I think that, at some point, everyone's a bit out of character- Chuck's a little too dry and cold, Sarah's certainly a pretty picture when she's drunk, and I don't think any of us find it possible that Casey could cry- acting or not. But this chapter's full of circumstances out of the ordinary, so bear with me on this one. I promise it'll make sense- I hope! __J_


	6. You Thought Chapter Five Was Disastrous?

"Don't you think you could have cut her off?" Casey hissed angrily after downloading the picture onto his computer and making several copies.

"You're one to talk- whose idea was it in the first place, hmm?" Chuck didn't add that he was scared to death to question any order Casey could give him.

"Well, she's practically useless now- I bet it was your plan all along!" Casey accused, voice rising. His eyes flashed in anger, and Chuck almost winced.

"How can you say that? You were there, too- it could've been _your _brilliant idea to cut her off!" Chuck paced back and forth, walking the length of the couch, then turning around. He made a sound in frustration, which caused Sarah to show some indication that she was alive. The two men immediately swiveled around to look at each other, and formed their own plans.

"Seduce her," Casey suddenly announced.

"What? No!" Chuck's incredulous expression showed enough shock to knock Casey off his feet.

"C'mon, Bartowski, you know you're dying to," Casey said, a mocking grin erupting on his face. "And what's good for Sarah is that she probably won't remember any of your pathetic attempts in the morning."

Chuck backed up, his pride hurt. Casey sensed a hint of weakness. "Pathetic attempts?" he choked, trying to put a dignified, objecting tone back into his trembling voice. "I don't think-"

"You're right, you don't," Casey interrupted, before he could figure out he should be objecting. "So now, Chuck, give her all you've got." Chuck tried to choke out a few protests, but Casey slapped him on the back, and hard enough so that he dropped down to his knees beside Sarah's head. With one last glance toward Casey's retreating figure, he sighed plaintively. He knew that whatever was going to happen would be regrettable. At least Casey wouldn't be there to hear it.

After all, Casey had forgotten to tell Chuck the room was wired, with a receiver automatically feeding into headphones that Casey was now wearing in his bedroom. He hungrily grabbed a handful of kernels from the bowl of popcorn in his lap, turning up the volume and hitting record. This should be the best show he'd seen in months.

"Sarah?" Chuck muttered into her ear. "Ohhh, Sarah?" He drew out the 'oh' in an attempt to show her he wasn't waking her up on a business agenda, but it just sounded tired.

She grunted, burrowing her face into the cushion. Chuck knew he wouldn't get away with just talking. He stroked the side of her face, and played with her hair. She eventually showed a slightly open eye. "Chuck?" she asked groggily. She yawned and stretched half-heartedly. "Mmmm…"

"Ok, Sarah, stay with me here," he said, and wondered whether he'd have to climb onto the couch next to her just to keep her awake. "Wow. Um, so, you said you had information about this guy sent by the CIA?" She was now stretching more enthusiastically, almost to the point of gyrating. Chuck had to tear his eyes away, entirely based on professional instinct.

"Who?" she paused, and he opened his mouth to speak, but shut it as she opened hers again. "Oh, you must mean Bryyyyce." She scratched her nose and added, "I have lots of information about him." She let out a giggle, again, and Chuck groaned.

"No, Sarah, not Bryce, I already know enough about him." Chuck tried to keep the creeping-towards-hostile tone out of his voice. "Blonning. Edward Blonning."

"Oh, _that _guy," she yawned, a bored tone entering her voice. "I lied."

"What?" Chucks eyebrows furrowed. He had never seen Sarah admit she'd lied before. Alcohol certainly triggers strange effects…

"I lied. I don't have a clue why he was here. It just sounded good, at the time." Chuck shook his head. He was glad Casey hadn't been there to hear it. However, he didn't know quite how he felt when he realized Sarah was more or less lying on top of his arm. He really didn't want to disturb her, but really didn't want to stay there either. Well, he sort of did. Silently, Chuck sorted out his thoughts, and decided it would be best just to report back to Casey before anything happened. He gently removed his arm, and began to get up.

"No," Sarah breathed. "Wait a second, _Chuck,"_she said huskily. Chuck gulped. She pulled him back down so she could look straight into her eyes by the collar of his shirt, with more strength than Chuck thought she had- in her current state.

"Sarah- I…can't?" Chuck finished off his statement of rejection with a stupefied stare towards Sarah, who broke off his sentence with a snore. He sighed, and ran back to Casey before anything could happen.

Chuck burst into Casey's bedroom, breathing hard. "Casey, Sarah said--" But Chuck stopped dead at the sight of all the monitoring equipment, empty bowl but for the corn kernels at the bottom, and Casey, wearing headphones and licking his fingers, innocently.

"What? Bartowski, don't tell me that's all the game you've got. Pathetic," he remarked, the second time that day. "I was expecting a real show."

Chuck slumped down, and put his head in his hands. Casey's comment struck too close to home for him to be really insulted- at the time- that he had been monitoring his every word. "I know, I know. I thought I had it in me." Then, pondering it a moment, he questioned, "But would it really have had a use? I mean, it turns out she didn't even know anything…"

Casey slapped Chuck on the back, third time that day. "I know. I knew it all along- how could she have known anything? I just wanted to see how well you could handle your handler, Bartowski." Chuck groaned, again too insulted to make any comment, and checked his watch.

"Briefing tomorrow morning?"

"As always."

"What do we do? Say?"

"Nothing, as always." Chuck rolled his eyes. He knew Casey was far too dedicated to wrinkly, old blue-eyes Beckman to really mean it, but decided to believe him anyway. He was just getting up to stretch when a crash rung out in the kitchen. Both men stopped dead in their tracks.

Chuck had "Sarah?" half-formed on his lips when Casey grabbed his mouth, outraged. Then he realized Sarah must still be on the couch, and the crash had to have been made by someone- or something- else. The look in Casey's eyes clearly spelled out idiot, and Chuck didn't want to press it any further.

So, rather than the car, Chuck stayed in the closet this time.

Casey seemed to take a mental count of three, then pulled a six-shooter out of his sock drawer, with a sardonic grin towards Chuck that seemed to confirm what he was thinking: _always prepared._ He paused a moment, turning it over in his hands, silently, then fired off a round into the kitchen, just for good measure. Chuck winced; what would the neighbors think? As he couldn't see or hear anything, he began to brainstorm excuses to keep away the impending fear.

_Yes, Sarah and I were at Casey's enjoying some popcorn, when she got so pissed drunk she couldn't move. Then, Casey decided to make some "hangover-cookies" his mother was fond of, but when he got out the ten pound, marble rolling pin out, his hands were covered in so much flour, he dropped it on his metal floor multiple times. _The believability factor was a bit low, but Chuck gave himself an A for creativity. That was when his heart stopped a moment, and the shadows he had imagined seeing got closer… and closer… until they were in the bedroom.

_Just my luck. _He had presumed it would be as much. Staying in the car never worked out, and he didn't have much to say for staying in the closet. But hmm… was that the scent of Hugo XY on that black button-down? Many things about Casey were being revealed today, Chuck couldn't help but to notice, as he inhaled deeper, and peeked out the door.

He almost winced when a figure- presumably a man, but he had learned not to underestimate female power after meeting Sarah- dressed in head-to-toe black delivered a flying kick straight to Casey's forehead, but he ducked quickly, for as much scotch he'd inhaled at the Bartowski residence. In fact, he ducked quickly enough to grab the leg of the male (or female) intruder, and then slam them mercilessly into the wall. Chuck couldn't help wincing, even though he was the enemy, as his head made a hole in the white plaster.

Relief flooded his body as he realized Ellie and Devon had the night shift. Their neighbors on the other side, the Farrows, were on vacation. Casey really couldn't have picked a better night for his domestic violence act, although the shots probably could be heard a longer distance.

A rather expensive looking vase flew from one side of the room to the other. Since it was returned in one piece, Chuck gathered Casey was on the receiving end- and rather fond of the vase. He continued to watch objects whiz by. A lamp… an end table… a bowl of fake fruit… an empty scotch bottle… then some knives. Plenty of knives, really.

But Casey seemed to be holding his own. After all, he was catching the knives and throwing them back, so Chuck figured he didn't need to get out of his closet yet to chip in. Casey would probably just yell at him, anyway.

Finally, one of the knives really seemed to make an impact. Chuck heard an unfamiliar voice groan once after a quiet _shink, _and then emit an even louder sound after two more soft _shink-shinks. _There was some squelching, too, but Chuck tried not to dwell on that.

Finally, Casey opened up the door of the closet, grinning way too happily than was necessary for a near death experience. "Come on out, Bartowski, and see if you flash on this guy's face." Chuck reluctantly stepped out of the closet, decided not to remark on the choice of cologne for the time being, and approached the bleeding man with caution.

And sure enough, he felt his eyes roll back, legs falter, and heart beat twice as fast as normal.

Having a flash sure is peachy, he thought just before he was consumed by a flow of images.

_A grove of blueberry trees with slaves picking the berries under hot sun…the same field being burnt down…a scorching sun…a man being life-flighted to a building with a red cross in a foreign country…the screen showing his vitals dropping abruptly_…_the flaming sun again._

"_Gah!" he exclaimed, shivering, staring into the glassy, unconscious eyes of a serial killer. Casey looked rather amused at this outburst, but didn't try to extract the information from the shaking Chuck immediately. He looked too priceless at the moment._

_Chuck looked nervous at relaying the information, between Casey's intense stare and those filmed-over, bulging eyes of a man who, definitely, John Casey would be proud of taking down. "Uh, do you remember that guy who would strike at random, just showing up at any old large gathering of people, and just slip some poison in the wedding cake, or plunk down a stick of TNT in the internal workings of a large factory?" Both men grimaced._

"_Clearly. He was a real problem for a while- Reptard. Leopold Reptard." Chuck's facial expressions confirmed the worst. "So, I have Leopold Reptard sitting unconscious and bloody on my bedroom floor?" Chuck nodded slowly. "Cool." Casey regarded the man with more interest, and shook his limp hand. Chuck snorted and turned away a moment._

"_Actually, Casey, not so cool." _

_Casey whipped around, his mind a moment behind his actions. "Please don't say it," he whispered, then put his head in the palm of his hand. Chuck's face held sorrow, regret for god knows what, confusion, and fear. It was actually the first time he'd ever heard Casey beg. A chill went down his spine._

"_He was sent by the CIA."_


	7. Out of Control

Chuck woke up in Casey's bedroom, disoriented, shocked, and after the disorientation and shock had set in, completely horrified. "Casey? Sarah?" He looked around, desperate, and slumped back against the wall he'd fallen asleep against. "Anybody?"

Sarah entered the room, smiling warmly. "Hey, Chuck. We were just taking care of the body."

Chuck eyed her suspiciously. "The- the body?" He scratched his head, and the flood of awful memories came back like a flash. "Oh. The creepy, serial killer guy's body. Right." He stood up and stretched, all of his joints aching from the painful few hours he'd slept, up against a wall. "You know, for the life of me, I would wonder which out of the two of us had five margaritas last night, if I hadn't been there to see it." Chuck chortled at his little joke, but Sarah stared back at him blankly.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing at all." Casey had been right- after those five margaritas, she hadn't woken up in a gun-fight, apparently found it totally natural to be waking up on Casey's floor, and remembered nothing about being drunk in the first place. "Nothing, at all."

Casey entered, brushing his hands off in a cheery fashion. "Morning, Chuck. How'd you sleep?" He gave a dark laugh as Chuck massaged the crick in his neck.

"Fine, Casey, just fine. You don't think you could've offered me a bed? A blanket? A pillow? A rug? A spot on the floor? You know, I'm really not that hard to please, it doesn't take so much…" Chuck trailed off, automatically stepping into the kitchen. "You keep food here? I know you have other amenities…" Casey shot Chuck a glare as his fingers tightened on the menacing looking gun in his hand. "That I will not mention under pain of death," Chuck quietly swore, head bowed in mock reverence.

"So…what's the battle plan? Wait, what time is it?" Chuck winced in the direction of the bright sunlight. He'd only had one beer last night, right?

"7:50. Briefing in ten." Casey tersely replied, not bothering to check his watch.

"Wow, and you thought I was the super computer brained freak? What, Casey, you have a Rolex hidden under your eyelids?" Chuck halfway joked.

"No, but I do have a revolver in my back pocket, and I'm really not in the mood." Chuck shook his head, but the comment was almost delivered with fondness.

"Somebody slip some Prozac in his coffee? Sarah?" Chuck inclined his head towards the also smiling blonde, who rolled her eyes and raised her eyebrows.

"Nope. We just got some things sorted out between the two of us," Sarah offered, and Casey grunted.

There was no way Chuck was going to be content with that. "Like…not wanting to kill each other? That's a good start, but did you delve deeper into each other than that? Hopes, wishes, dreams…?"

Casey and Sarah eyed each other, critically, and Sarah pursed her lips and said, "Well, Chuck, I wouldn't go that far, but we probably won't play hide and go seek anymore…" The glance toward Casey clearly said that all had not yet been forgiven or forgotten.

"Or bring up certain, still awkward moments involving being handcuffed to a bed in a Czech city with nothing on but undergarments." Casey cleared his throat, and closed his eyes, obviously trying to wipe away any trace of that particular memory. Sarah tried to bite her smile back.

However, Chuck's was just a little too infectious.

"What do we do about the briefing? Do we mention the guy that tried to kill us last night, or the one yesterday afternoon?" Chuck's voice shook a tad, betraying his fear. Sarah walked over to him, and squeezed his hand reassuringly. Which made him flush more than ever.

"Don't worry, Chuck, just follow our lead." Sarah hoped grabbing his hand wasn't too forward, but Casey chose to ignore it. After she had gotten him straightened out about, well, everything. He wouldn't be bothering her with his little "wise" tidbits as much, now.

Sarah smiled, and looked into Chuck's eyes, but with him gaping at their intertwined fingers, the moment was just a bit too awkward. She regrettably let go, but held onto her smile with a vengeance.

_He loves you. You know he does. You l-l-l-…damn it, _Sarah thought closing her eyes to mask her frustration. If she couldn't even think the "L" word, how could she possibly say it out loud? And after their recent history, she was bound on setting them on the right path again. Because she couldn't risk losing him, and the chance of that seemed so much more plausible, now. After he was almost snatched away before her very eyes, and she was, for once, utterly defenseless.

And that made her more uncomfortable than anything else.

"Sorry to interrupt this, I'm sure, hallmark moment," Casey broke in, "but unless you want our superiors to see whatever emotional exchange is going on here, I suggest you take on a more…professional approach." Chuck cleared his throat awkwardly, a few times, and both agents rolled their eyes. He could be such a nuisance, sometimes…but they loved him. Well, Sarah did, and Casey didn't really feel the burning desire to lodge a bullet in his head anymore.

That was a high, high compliment, for him.

The screen flickered, and the two people who utterly controlled all of their lives could be seen, staring directly at them. "Major Casey. Agent Walker. Mr. Bartowski," General Beckman greeted coldly. Chuck didn't miss the fact that he was last, as usual. And the lack of official title made his face flush, as usual.

"We have no new assignments, and if you have nothing new to report, you may take the next week off," Director Graham explained, taking his time in drawing out the sentence. "Anything to report, Agents? Mr. Bartowski?"

Casey fought off a snarl. He was baiting them. The assassins were no accident.

Sarah gave a tight smile, and said, hoping her lie wasn't too obvious, "Nothing, Director. General."

The two superiors gave each other little knowing smiles. "Good. We will expect you to report next week, eight o'clock as usual. Over and out," Beckman commanded, and the screen went blank.

"This is going along well," Graham admitted, giving Beckman a rare smile. He had objected to the idea at first. "They'll have no idea what hit them- we'll have to congratulate Dr. Vernon on his success."

"When we're sure," Beckman said, nodding. "This operation cannot be botched."

Chuck entered the Buy More with Casey at his side, but as soon as they were inside, they split in different directions. Chuck went to go find Morgan, and Casey stalked off to be as far away from Morgan as possible.

Morgan was, as usual, in the break room. Chuck observed the scene for a moment before entering- it looked like he was holding some sort of meeting. Or a protest.

As soon as Chuck opened the door, Morgan held a finger up to his lips. Chuck exaggerated his motions, closing the door most of the way in slow motion, silently, then slamming the last two inches.

"Something going on here, Morgan?" he asked, surveying the usual crowd. Jeff, Lester, Anna, the red-haired guy in sales, the lady with bad highlights, the wiry guy who tended to quiver in Big Mike's presence, and others whose names Chuck didn't know stood in front of Morgan, who was perched on the table.

"God, Chuck, this is a secret operation!" Morgan whispered, glancing around the store with wide eyes in paranoia. "You would make such a sucky undercover agent, you know that?"

Chuck rolled his eyes, as the insult hit him harder than he could let them know. "Believe me, Morgan. I know." He stole a glance around the room again, furrowing his eyebrows. "What is this…secret operation?" Funny that Morgan would decide to take on an international spy theme, at this time.

"Is…_he _here?" Morgan hissed, and Chuck grabbed him by his collar.

"Morgan, stop speaking in code. I get enough codes these days," Chuck muttered. "Tell me what's going on, okay?"

Morgan shook his head in shock, amazement, and worry. "Chuck, you're acting like _him!_" Then some gears clicked in Chuck's super-computer mind, and he raised his eyebrows.

"You mean Casey?"

Morgan winced, and covered his ears. "Speak not his name, he of the evil race!"

Chuck rolled his eyes, and let go of Morgan's shirt. "Casey's harmless, Morgan. Just give him some space, and he'll leave you alone."

The shorter man cleared his throat, and lifted his hairy chin up, obviously trying to look impressive. "Not what these good people of the Buy More have to say, Chuck." He waved a casual hand towards the employees standing in front of him, and they began to spit out stories.

"He told me to shut the hell up. The company has a policy against swearing."

"He dropped a ladder on my foot!"

"He threatened to shove Jeff's foot up my ass!"

"He threatened to shove my foot up Lester's ass!"

"He _growled _at me!"

"He shoved me out of the way!"

Chuck sighed, and glanced towards Morgan, who had his eyes closed and arms open, as if collecting all the pieces of Casey's inner demon. "And what are you planning to do?" Chuck cleared his throat. "After all, the last time you tried to talk to him, you almost died by way of strangulation."

His eyes popped open, and he put his hands together. That's not the point. But _we, _Chuck, _we _are going to neutralize Mr. John Casey, in whatever way we can." He held a hand out for Chuck to shake, but Chuck brushed him off.

"Buddy, you can sort this one out on your own- I'm not going to get involved in 'neutralizing' Casey. Good luck in taking him down, though," Chuck offered, with a chuckle. They'd need it.

He strode back out into the store, and found Casey angrily stamping merchandise with a sticker gun. Always with the gun… "Casey, I need to alert you of a threat that threatens your very well-being," Chuck began gravely.

Casey's eyes widened. "You have information on the recent attacks?"

Chuck shook his head grimly. "No, on one yet to come." At Casey's almost fearful expression, it was all Chuck could do to keep from breaking out into a smile. "The members of the Buy More Employees Guild have had it. They're going to take you out."

Casey closed his eyes, cracked his knuckles, and opened them again to stare at Chuck intensely. His dopey grin faltered. "All right then, Bartowski. You stick to the Buy More, and I'll handle the matters of national security. Okay?" Chuck gulped, and nodded. "Glad we're on the same page."

"M-me-me too, C-Casey," Chuck stuttered, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Me, too. Wouldn't ever, really, wanna be on a different page as you, as the pages are our lives... and I'm shutting up now, don't worry." Chuck held up his hands in defeat, and backed away slowly.

Sarah finished the ketchup and mustard masterpiece she had made on the back counter at the Wienerlicious. It did somewhat resemble the Mona Lisa, but if someone had called her out on it, she might have kept that piece of information to herself. She stared plaintively at the rotating hot dogs, and sighed.

She almost wished Blonning would come back.

Her day yesterday had at least been interesting, but she had become uneasily aware of how bored she was getting when her real job lagged. Los Angeles had seemed so exciting, at first, the big city with endless goings-on. However, it seemed like the goings-on were kept strictly to the tourist industry.

More realistically, she wished Chuck would come by on his lunch break.

Just as action-packed, enjoyable, and risky as Blonning, but more heartwarming, and endearing. If she didn't have him on this mission…she might be somewhere else now, that was very, very different.

But she gave herself a mental slap for thinking about Bryce, and the life he'd offered her. She told herself that, after how much it had damaged her relationship with Chuck, she'd push Larkin out of her mind. Maybe that would help, if she didn't think of him as Bryce anymore. Just Larkin.

Caught in reverie, Sarah jumped a little when the door opened. Casey entered, and gave her a little salute. "Good to know you're on your toes, Walker."

Sarah gave a sarcastic smile. "Velkommen to the Wienerlicious, Casey. Now what do you want?"

Casey eyed the rotating pieces of fleshy meat in disgust. "Nothing you're selling." He gave the wieners a closer look. "Is this restaurant FDA approved?"

"Ha ha. Now really, is there something you need to tell me? The teenage boys hiding behind the bush in the front lot are getting jealous, with you hoarding my attention."

Casey spun around. Sure enough, four poorly concealed adolescents were eyeing him in disgust. "I just wanted to say something, while Chuck's not around." He checked his watch. "He doesn't get a lunch break for another fifteen minutes."

Sarah eyed him suspiciously. Casey usually avoided one-on-one time with her as much as he possibly could. "Casey, what's wrong?" Her brow furrowed, and she forced all thoughts out of her mind- mostly revolving around Chuck- until he decided to give her an answer.

Casey inhaled deeply. "The screen on the TV was turned off before the receiver was, connecting us to the General's office. There's a recording I think you should hear, of what they said after we'd stopped listening." Casey looked really concerned. He handed her a small mp3 player, with a chip stuck in it. The muffled voices required concentration, but she was pretty sure she'd heard what had been said correctly.

"_This is going along well. They'll have no idea what hit them- we'll have to congratulate Dr. Vernon on his success_." Even through the static, Sarah could recognize Graham's voice.

"_When we're sure. This operation cannot be botched."_ The contempt in Beckman's voice was obvious, and Sarah's worried expression mirrored Casey's. Whatever was going on here was getting a little out of control.


	8. Eavesdropping and Plotting

Chuck hoped they didn't think he was that stupid.

Hmm. No Casey. No Sarah. Sarah's in the Wienerlicious, Casey walked in the direction of the Wienerlicious. No one bothered to invite him, either.

Chuck scanned the near-empty store, and then checked his watch. Five minutes until his lunch break began. The Buy More could survive without him that long, right? On second thought…Chuck's mind envisioned Jeff and Lester organizing a twelve o'clock porn showing on the TV wall. Maybe not.

Chuck jogged around the store until he found Morgan. "Hey, buddy, can you cover for me for the, let's see, last five minutes before my lunch break?" To his vast surprise, Morgan shook his head gravely.

"Look, man, you're not even willing to help my cause. Sorry, no can do, I've got toasters to sell."

Chuck furrowed his eyebrows. "Your…cause?" He scratched his head for a moment, and then the morning encounter came back to him. "Oh, right, the overthrowing Casey thing." He sighed. "Morgan, I'm just going to warn you, as a friend to a friend: don't get further on Casey's bad side."

"Chuck, this battle is not about courage; it's about heart." Chuck raised an eyebrow. "Wait…did I screw that line up somehow?" Morgan looked confused for a moment, then blew it off. He began to walk away, holding up his hand.

Chuck checked his watch again. Two minutes. "Okay, just please make sure no one does anything stupid? Primarily Jeff and Lester?" He felt two presences behind him, and spun around to face the infamous two.

"Well, Chuck, what did you have in mind?" Lester asked, trying to stare him down.

"We are the kings of stupid," Jeff commented bluntly, and Lester hit his shoulder to shut him up. "What? It sounded good in my head."

Chuck sighed, and pushed past the two of them, not wanting to get involved. He checked his watch again. One minute until his lunch break will have started, and undoubtedly, the meeting between his handlers would break. "Is it impossible to get out of here?" he asked the sky. Well, technically, the ceiling of the Buy More, but that's so much less figurative.

He was ready to scream when a customer waylaid him near the door. He grabbed the camera out of her hands, and before she get out even one word, he set the language back to English from Japanese.

"Have a nice day, Ma'am, any further problems, and you can consult one of the Nerd Herd at the white desk," he explained, talking twice as fast as any normal person would. He leapt over a desk, and ran towards the door. He could still see the middle-aged, slightly overweight woman looked rather confused, standing in the spot he had left her in with a dazed expression on her face. Chuck turned around, shook his head, and almost ran into Casey.

Before Casey could get a growl past his lips, Chuck grabbed him by his shoulders. "What did you and Sarah discuss in your little private meeting?"

Casey seemed too surprised and concerned to say anything about being grabbed by his shoulders. "Nothing that concerns you," he lied, removed Chuck's clenching fingers, and tried to walk past him.

"Casey, we're a _team _here! When are you finally going torealize that?" He tried to decipher Casey's worried expression, and he felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. "They don't have the new Intersect up and running, do they?" he choked, trying unsuccessfully to hide his emotions.

Casey snorted. "If they did, you'd already be dead."

"Comforting, Casey. Very comforting. You ever considered writing, like, sympathy cards?" Casey grunted, a smile half-formed on his lips, and Chuck sighed.

"If I didn't have to baby-sit idiots who had heads chock full of classified government information, maybe I could." He tapped Chuck's head with his knuckles.

"Alright, then, I'll quit asking the android. Maybe Sarah will have enough human emotion to bring herself to tell me."

Casey closed his eyes, trying to figure out how to stall Chuck. Walker was in no mood to discuss the conversation she'd just heard. "Good job, by the way," he complimented as naturally as he could. His compliments were sparing, and he was rather out of practice.

Chuck was so taken by surprise, he spun around and stopped. "Whah?"

"I said, good job. You might have a hope, after all."

Chuck had lifted his chin up a little higher, which didn't escape Casey's notice, but he still seemed rather in the dark. _Good. More distraction time._

"You identified my location based on where you had seen me exit last, and used your instinct to know something was wrong. Which was wrong. Nothing's wrong." Close shave. "I think that deserves a pat on the back."

Chuck watched Casey's hand, almost in slow motion, come up behind him, ready to slam him yet again. It took him a few minutes to process it. "Wait!"

Casey snorted in disgust. "What?"

"Okay. Can we please stop these killer 'pats on the back' ? What about a, um, oh- what about a nice, easy, gentle handshake? Huh?"

Casey cracked his knuckles in response, unable to keep the growing grin off his face. "Fine by me. Feel free to pick your poison, Bartowski."

At Casey's words, Chuck's eyes grew wide, and his world was in slow-motion again. But this time, he couldn't stop it, as he felt Casey grip his hand in a bone-crushing, anatomy-altering grasp. "Ok. Casey. That's good. Very, very firm handshake. I like that," he wheezed.

Morgan walked by and witnessed the exchange. He leaned in towards Chuck and whispered in his ear, "Who's side you on now, buddy? Pal? Morgan's, or…" he paused to eye Casey in disgust (but not look him in the eye), "_His?_"

"I'm staying neutral for now, Morgan, but you go right ahead and, erm, attempt whatever it is you plan to do." Chuck realized he was two minutes into his lunch break already, and had been intending to get out of the store over seven minutes ago. He shoved his way past Morgan and Casey, causing them both to shout, "Hey!"

Morgan awkwardly put his hand on Casey's shoulder, and said, "Don't know what's gotten into the kid lately. You know, we could get together and talk about it, man to man..." Casey growled, grabbed Morgan by his face, and sent him flying into a rack of batteries. "Or not."

Chuck burst through the doors of the Wienerlicious, panting and holding his side with care. "Sarah, what's going on?"

She ignored his question, and put on a bright smile. "Oh, good, you're here. I was almost starting to think you weren't going to come." He tried to interrupt, but she interrupted his interruption. "What made you late? You're usually so prompt to lunch."

"Oh, everything from customers to my incompetent best friend to two useless boneheads that technically are Nerd Herders." He knew he was missing something. "Oh, and everyone's favorite NSA agent." He sighed, and made sure the store was empty. "Will you please tell me what is going on?"

Sarah decided to play dumb. "What do you mean?" Chuck bit his lip and closed his eyes. Okay, maybe a little too dumb. Better back up… "Chuck, nothing's going on. Casey and I just went over our orders given in the briefing, and worked out a schedule to watch you."

Chuck wasn't sold. "If all you did was decide who to baby-sit me and when, then why did Casey look so worried?" He paused and stared into her eyes. "And why do you, too?"

Sarah had opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a customer who strolled in through the door. She plastered on a fake smile, and gave her line. "Velkhommen to Wienerlicious. How may I help you select some of our delicious wieners today?" Chuck didn't turn around, and didn't really want to meet the eyes of the woman who had just interrupted their rather intimate conversation- about as intimate as they usually got.

The bell rang a second time, and Casey strolled in. He saw the back of the customer's head, and took a table inconspicuously.

Without turning around, the customer said, "Jonathon Clyde Casey, if you don't say a word to me, I have an inclination to shoot you in that beautiful head of yours."

Chuck noted Sarah's reflexes. They were very impressive. She was already on the counter, with a gun pointing at the woman's head. Chuck still didn't look at her; he had a false sense of security as long as he didn't make eye contact. Especially when people threatened to blow others' brains out.

The woman snorted. "I didn't say I'd shoot you; what's up your ass?" Sarah's eyes got wide, and her head cocked sideways, in a very menacing manner.

He brought himself to look at Casey, who looked completely incredulous. He seemed hesitant to turn around, but brought himself to do so, slowly. "Kaden?"

"No shit, Sherlock," she said affectionately. "How you been?" Casey looked happy. Chuck figured there had to be a miracle appearing before him, and decided to take a look.

He flashed as soon as he saw her face. _A street sign written in Spanish…a car chase, ending in a crash…the airport in a foreign country…a scuba diver going into the ocean…a one hundred dollar bill…a cigarette, smoldering in an ashtray…a paper documenting an operation in Athens…the operation name, "Sodapop," on an official looking document…the street sign written in Spanish again._

Sarah's eyes were on Chuck, widening as she saw the outward signs of him flashing. Casey was too busy staring at the newcomer in surprise and delight, which pissed Sarah off for some unknown reason. Just another gorgeous agent, probably wasn't very good at her job. She was probably like Carina, and relied on her charm and good looks to get her through. There was no good reason for Casey to be staring at her in such obvious ecstasy. And no reason for Chuck to be staring at her that long, because she knew the flash was over.

Chuck stopped to examine the face of the dangerous agent before him. After all, he couldn't quite say anything at the moment, or else she'd be suspicious. She had clear green eyes under thick lashes, and perfect olive colored skin. Her lips were plump, but not collagen plump. More of a pleasant, sensual plump. Her dark red, smooth and wavy hair framed her face, and Chuck tried not to stare too much at her body. Or her sumptuous breasts.

He sighed. Were all female agents this attractive?

"Casey?" Sarah cleared her throat. "Would you like to introduce your…friend?" Chuck could tell Sarah didn't like her much, already. And she'd hardly even spoken- although what she said had an impact.

Casey had an unfamiliarly jovial expression, and he introduced his "friend" with pleasure. "Walker, Chuck, this is Kaden, an old friend of mine."

"Ahem…old?" She flashed him a smile that nearly took Chuck's breath away.

Casey rolled his eyes, but continued. "We go way back to a stakeout in Eastern Siberia, and have been on four? Five? Missions together since. And yes, Walker, she's a friend. Don't go getting jealous." Sarah flushed, and glared at him.

Kaden raised her eyebrows at Casey. "Your newest love interest?"

Chuck and Sarah both shouted, "No!" Then they looked at each other, rather impressed.

"Oh, so you two?"

"It's … complicated," they both sighed, and stared at each other and smiled.

"Uh, Casey, can I talk to you a sec? In private?" Chuck stuttered, staring at Casey tentatively. Casey rolled his eyes, and grudgingly nodded, but not without one of his infamous grunts.

"What, Chuck? Did you flash?" Casey asked, irritated to be taken away from his play date, as soon as they were behind the back counter, near the freezer.

"Actually, yes, Casey. On your old buddy, in fact. And on operation Sodapop, which I understand you, too, were involved in?" Chuck reported, but Casey looked confused.

"Operation what?" Now Chuck looked confused, as well.

"Sodapop. I flashed specifically on it. You and her, up in the mountains near the southern border of France- I should think you would remember the assignment where your partner went rogue."

"Are you messing with me, Chuck? Trying to plant some false memory about Kaden?" he growled, grabbing Chuck by his shirt.

"Why would I do that?! I flashed on it, it's true! Good as gold, Casey, these things don't have much room for interpretation," Chuck said, not liking how this confrontation was working out.

"Then you must be lying, or else the Intersect is wrong," Casey suggested, through clenched teeth. It seemed to him a light came on behind those empty windows in Chuck's head. "Spill it."

He was shaking his head, still, but managed to say, "What you said…about the Intersect being wrong," he offered, then continued reluctantly, "How…plausible would you say that is?"

Casey stared at him suspiciously. "About a million to one, Chuck."

"And how plausible is it to you that I'm lying right now?"

Casey took a moment to study his features, looking for any classic sign of a fib. He finally admitted, "About ten million to one." He shook his head in disbelief. "But how? The Intersect isn't wrong, Chuck." He slowly lowered Chuck back to the ground.

"I don't know, but it seems suspicious to me, how the assassins and a flaw in the Intersect would come about at the same time."

"Very suspicious." He paused. "Go get Walker."

Chuck choked back a derogatory comment, and covered the six yards between them quickly, witnessing the two female agents having a pleasantly awkward situation. He grabbed her by her hand and pulled her back to Casey, leaving Kaden saying, "You know what? That's cool, that's cool, I wouldn't wanna interrupt this little threesome thing you've got going on here. Casey? Catch up with me later, I'll leave my number where I know you'll find it. Being benched is hard work, you know? Stuff to do, people to kill…" The three in the back held their breath as the bell rang while the door opened and closed.

"Sarah… we've got a problem."

Sarah gave a little laugh. "Don't you think you're being a bit dramatic, Chuck? I mean, how big can this problem be?"

"Very large. Very, very large."

Kaden listened with interest just behind the wall they were standing against, talking in regular voices now. The old swing the door open and shut with your foot thing seemed to work out pretty well, but she was surprised her pal Casey hadn't caught it. Maybe he wasn't quite as sharp as usual? No. Casey wasn't that knife you put in your drawer when you were done using. He didn't get dull.

And while she was sure the cover would be dull, this Intersect thing was all very, _very _interesting. She'd heard rumors floating around about it, but didn't know the half of the situation. This Chuck guy had been right about it being very large- and she would definitely stick around to hear the end of it.

She had just disabled the bell and was about to walk out when she heard raised voices. Naturally, that required some immediate sticking around. She mentally categorized the area around her, looking for places to safely eavesdrop. She sighed very, very softly, and had to make a drastic motion. Thank god she was still in shape.

Sarah walked briskly from behind the wall, eyes flashing. She quickly surveyed the store, making sure no one was listening. "So, who _can _we trust? Not the CIA, not the NSA, and now, apparently, not the freaking Intersect!" She made an angry noise, and Chuck grabbed her hand.

"Well, we have three people, and it seems to work for Bryce- going around, trusting nobody, completely on his own," he said, quietly, into her ear. His voice was the opposite of hers- deep, comforting, reassuring, and slightly quavering. "We're already up two."

Casey, on the other hand, wasn't so comforting. "Get a hold of yourself, Walker. If there's one thing that's going to bring us down, it's emotional instability," he hissed, almost as angry as she was. He seemed to speak cautiously, even though it appeared no one was in the immediate area.

"Casey, I don't think you're helping," Chuck hedged, his voice slowly becoming more shrill.

"But he's right," Sarah admitted reluctantly, biting her lip. "If it's just the three of us, we can't let our emotions get in the way of our work." Kaden took a deep breath, and descended from her perch inside the drop ceiling.

"Make that four." She pulled her gun out, just as Sarah and Casey did. "Yeah, I've heard everything you've said. Yeah, I know how important he is," she said, inclining her head towards Chuck, and also moving her gun to target his head. "No, I'm not going to shoot him, and I know you're not going to shoot me."

Sarah and Casey slowly lowered their weapons. Sarah looked pissed. Casey looked relieved, but invigorated. "It's been a while since I've shot you, Kaden, hasn't it?" he mentioned, examining the barrel of his pistol.

Kaden smiled. "Too long." She stepped forward, and dusted off her hands. "It's also been a while since I've had to hide in a ceiling." Casey gave a soft chuckle, probably remembering a distant yet fond memory. Sarah still wasn't amused.

"This is my offer of help," Kaden said calmly, almost as if talking to a small child. "And I know you two are probably more than capable of handling this… situation, but I really think you could use some."

Chuck was slowly recovering from the shock he normally felt when someone put a gun up to his head, which was coming about more and more often. It was replaced by the shock when Sarah agreed.

"Alright, Agent Kaden. Welcome to the world of the Intersect."

"This is going to be a battle of few against many," Morgan whispered into Chuck's ear, who was caught in reverie at the Nerd Herd desk.

Chuck perked up immediately, alarmed. "Battle? What?" _How did Morgan know?_

Morgan ignored his confusion and went on, an expression on his face that had to have been imitating Bruce Willis. "But when I am through, John Casey will have resigned."

Chuck's thudding heart began to slow. "Actually, it's Jonathon Clyde Casey," he corrected, unaware that the very man was standing behind him at the moment. He smirked. "Clyde…who knew?"

He whipped around at the sound of a familiar growl, and his heart began to thud again.

"I don't know, Bartowski, but you had better forget that you know before something bad happens to you," he threatened, baring his teeth. Chuck closed his eyes. Casey did have a knack of striking fear into his very soul. He walked away slowly, turning to glance menacingly back at at Chuck every few steps.

Morgan let out a low whistle. "Man, he just…he gives me the heeby jeebies, you know? Look at that! Look at _that!_ Tell me you don't see goosebumps, there," he said, pointing at his forearms. He squinted at Casey's retreating figure. "That criminal is going down."


	9. A Little Italiano

"So, what do you guys…do, exactly?" Kaden asked Casey, back at his house. Chuck had begun to warm to her, after he had gotten over the entire gun-in-the-face thing, although it wouldn't have been the first time. Even Sarah was beginning to appreciate her charm…sort of.

Chuck smiled. "You know, catch bad guys, steal diamonds that belong to terrorist groups, deactivate bombs, find people who are supposed to be dead in large time-sensitive crates, all that stuff. In the average week, someone points a gun at me twice- and we've already met that quota, thanks to you."

Kaden smirked. "If I hadn't pointed a gun at your head, my entrance wouldn't have been half as dramatic." She shook out her wavy hair, ran her fingers through it.

Casey rolled his eyes. "Like you have trouble being dramatic. I usually try not to think about Athens, when that subject comes up…" Kaden flashed a brilliant smile, and shook her head.

"That's probably for the best."

"Sorry to break up the meet-and-greet, but we've got some work to do," Sarah interjected.

Chuck looked alarmed. "Sarah, that sounded way too much like Casey."

"Well, someone's gotta be the adult in this situation." She flipped her hair back, face all business.

"Alrighty, then, I can do business," Kaden offered, and sat down with her hands folded.

"Don't mention what kind of business," Casey muttered under his breath. Kaden punched him in the arm, and Chuck was glad that, for once, he wasn't the punching bag of the group. Clearing his throat, Casey's expression changed to mimic Sarah's. "Well, I can think of three people who could help us with this, but they're all either dead or supposed to be dead."

Chuck sighed. "Professor Fleming, Dr. Zarno, and Bryce." He looked over at Kaden to see if she needed an explanation, but she dismissed it with a wave of her hand.

"Don't worry about it- I heard plenty enough to satisfy my informational needs when I was in the Wienerlicious." Sarah couldn't repress a little shiver. She would have to be way more careful from now on- if her superiors knew about this…

But they probably wouldn't care. Whatever they were talking about in that little conversation of theirs didn't seem like they really did care about what happened to her and Casey. They were only handlers, after all- they weren't half as important as Chuck.

Chuck was everything.

Kaden suddenly got up, and put her coat on. At the confused stares of everyone surrounding her, she sighed. "I don't know if you guys are, like, monks, or something, but I'm gonna go out and satisfy my hunger." She slipped on her high heels, and grabbed her purse.

"For?" Casey cocked an eyebrow.

She gave a dry laugh, and slapped his across the chest with her purse. "Actual, material food, this time. Not what I meant in Helsinki." She glanced at everyone briefly, expectantly. "Anyone else?"

"I'm in."

"I'm in."

Sarah looked around helplessly. She was cornered. "Fine," she sighed, throwing her hands up in the air. "But no nightclubs."

A man with no known identity to the people he was meeting climbed in through the back window of a restaurant where he his arrival was expected. The owner of the restaurant, a self-serving business man with a bowler hat and a large build, accepted several bills before taking the man into a private room. Before flicking on the lights, the owner decided to propose a question.

"Do you trust me?" he asked with a heavy Italian accent, fingering his gun in his back pocket.

"Of course," the man replied, and as the lights turned on, he found himself surrounded by several armed men. He let out a sigh, and turned around to face the owner, palms up. He, too, had a gun- pressed against the man's skull.

He grinned ferociously. "Well then, Mr. John Doe, you should be more careful about who you choose to bestow your trust upon.

The attractive, brown-haired man with piercing blue eyes cocked an eyebrow. "I don't think that's entirely necessary. This may be more of a lesson for you, than me- be careful about what you trust those who you think you trust to do, when they're not entirely trustworthy."

He spun around, taking three men down with one flying kick. As the bullets flew through the air around him, he casually back flipped under and over them, anticipating every shot. When they finished off their rounds, he paused a moment, panting and invigorated. He was just getting started.

Sarah delicately sipped her martini at the Italian restaurant they were dining at. She still wasn't sure what had happened the previous night, but she took the fact that she couldn't remember anything about it as a bad sign. She would definitely have to watch her alcohol intake, from now on. Apparently, from Chuck and Casey's quietly delivered comments, she could get rather out of control.

She still wasn't sure she liked Kaden. She obviously had excellent skills as a field agent, and seemed intelligent and charming enough to succeed in interrogation and other information extractions rituals. But someone who could get along with Casey had to have some serious flaws, no matter how well hidden…

Her reverie was broken when Chuck nudged her. "Huh, Sarah? Remember that?" They were all laughing, and she felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Play it off? Admit she wasn't listening? No, that might hurt Chuck's feelings…

"Of course I do! That was priceless!" she exclaimed, taking the riskier choice. It seemed to fit in well enough, because no one stared at her like she was out of her mind. Chuck continued, and she realized he was talking about how he covered for her with a spastic colon excuse. He even admitted to using it several other times, mostly for the comic relief. A tiny bubble of horrified shock rose up in her, but it exited as laughter.

She stared at Chuck, her mouth partially open. "What's this? How was I the only person who didn't know I have a spastic colon?" She whacked him with a napkin, but instead of the anticipated blush on his part, it came from her as he stared intently into her clear blue eyes.

"Well, now everyone does- so you'll know why Ellie is always suggesting that you avoid her guacamole," he explained, smiling warmly. That smile could warm her on her coldest day. She smiled back, allowing herself to be lost in his coffee-colored eyes.

The nameless man stood amidst several unconscious people, some of them probably dead. He surveyed the damage, scratching his chin casually. He hadn't expected it to be this big of a job- they'd had several reinforcements waiting on call, but one by one, they'd fallen. He paused, considering. Actually, sometimes it was two or three by one, but that didn't matter.

Bending down quietly, he removed the money he'd provided from the businessman's coat pocket, and eyed the room again. There were too many bodies to hide individually, and it would be less time-consuming to simply put an "in use" sign on the door of the private party room, and then exit quietly. He wasn't sure who he could trust to call in for cleanup, since this mission wasn't technically on his schedule. People could be so narrow-minded sometimes.

After all, although he wasn't technically rogue, he didn't need anything to further prod that notion.

He did know a few people he could trust, here in L.A., but it would only be a nuisance to them if he came out of his deep cover, only to call in for some backup he didn't necessarily need. And after the last time he'd seen them, things were bound to be a tad awkward.

He sighed inwardly, and made the decision to stroll out the front door as casually as was possible. There might be some remaining threats if he tried to exit through the window he'd entered in, and he didn't need any more bodies.

For the first time in a long time, Sarah was laughing so hard that tears were forming at the corners of her eyes. That didn't escape Chuck's notice, even as he listened intently to some of the incidents that had occurred on Kaden and Casey's past missions.

Kaden's own face was streaked with tears of laughter. "…and so there we were, in this strip club in Buenos Aires, and the gunman that we were looking for asks me to give him a lap dance, because he thought I worked there! And I had to, or else we would've blown our cover...but I don't think Casey would ever forget _that _image!" She gave him a sideways glance, for confirmation. "And then, afterwards, I took him outside for 'some more,' and shot him in the head. Last prostitute _he'd _ever take advantage of!" She paused a moment to collect herself, holding her hand over her mouth to keep in the laughter.

Casey shook his head in disbelief. "Those idiots were absolutely disgusting." Chuck smiled, taking it all in. They seemed like four normal friends, having a night out, if you didn't listen to the conversation content.

"So how long have you guys been on this assignment?" Kaden asked, stirring her drink casually. Chuck noted that she preferred stirring over drinking her mai tai, and had only seen her take a few sips. Then he flashed back to Sarah guzzling margaritas at his house, and he knew she must have been really, really stressed out.

"About six months," Casey estimated. Chuck couldn't help but reflect on those past six months, and how much they'd changed his life. He'd gone from a college drop out, more or less, the employee at an electronics store, who lived with his sister and her boyfriend, to a college drop out, more or less, the employee at an electronics store, who lived with his sister and her fiancée, and had a ton of classified government secrets in his head, and had two of the top agents in the NSA and CIA become more or less his stalkers. Or babysitters. Yeah, maybe full-time babysitters would be more appropriate.

Things really had changed.

"Alright, Casey, I'm feeling an embarrassing story coming on here, so I'm going to go find the men's room," Chuck said, just as Casey opened his mouth. He got up from his seat, and wandered down a hallway, taking his time to look at the pictures. He spotted a lit-up restroom sign at the end, and quickened his pace a little. Just as he was doing so, a briskly walking figure exited from a door on the side marked "Private Party- Closed", and ran right into him.

Chuck gave an embarrassingly girly shriek, then began to apologize. It was only then that the two acquaintances locked eyes, and his jaw fell open.

"Bryce?" he urgently whispered, poking his shoulder to make sure he was real.

(Insert Commercial Break) (Haha)

Bryce Larkin blinked a few times, as if adjusting to the sight of his former friend's face. "Chuck?" he whispered back, the incredulous look on his face eventually breaking into a smile. "Just the person I wanted to see." He grabbed Chuck by the arm, and pulled him into the room with the bodies.

Chuck's expression remained shocked. "Wha-a?" He put his hand up to his head. "So, what, you just show up occasionally, to mess up the order of people's lives, and--" he broke off and gulped when he spotted all the motionless bodies on the floor. "And kill people?"

Chuck stopped, and physically forced Bryce to face him. "Bryce, was this…does the…were you supposed to do this?"

Bryce shook him off, and shrugged. "They're bad guys, Chuck. They would've been my orders had the CIA been informed they were in town- I'm just a couple steps ahead of them." He nudged one with the toe of his shoe. "Besides, they're not dead."

That sent Chuck reeling into shock. "So, uh, they could just, like, wake up at any time, now?" he squeaked. That panicky tone his voice often took on when he was scared as hell was starting to take over.

"We've gotta move fast, Chuck." Somehow, Bryce's words had little comfort. But they certainly had an effect. Chuck closed his eyes and turned his head while he grabbed a regular enough looking guy in black from under the arms, and hauled him out to wherever Bryce was depositing them. And then tying them up. Chuck looked around helplessly, and muttered Sarah's name.

Sarah checked her watch for about the fifth time in ten minutes. Casey sighed, and took it off her wrist in one lightning-fast motion. She glared, but the worry was still evident in her eyes.

"Option one: he got lost trying to find the restroom. Option two: he got abducted, in a little hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant. Option three: he's having some issues in the bathroom," Kaden offered, snatching up a fry from her plate. "Keep in mind, this is Chuck that we're dealing with."

Sarah sighed, and got up. "I'm going in." Casey muffled a snort at her professional words, but stopped when he saw her expression.

"Good luck, Agent Walker."

Sarah briskly walked down the same hall that Chuck had walked down. She wished she were better at tracking, but that still wouldn't help much in a restaurant. Most of the doors in the hallway were closed, or had private party signs on them. She checked anything that was cracked open, first, and found nothing. The doors were probably too thick to hear anything through them, and she really didn't feel like crashing any parties, but that might not be a choice.

Taking a second glance, Sarah noticed that on the last door, the sign was askew. She smirked. It was a good a clue as any, and she swung the door open, hand on the gun that was in the small of her back.

The breath caught in her throat as she counted- thirteen still bodies laying on the floor. Someone had been here, and something was going on. She knelt down amid all the damage, and tried to identify the bodies. After the fifth one, she figured it was pretty much impossible, but thought she had a good idea of what was going on.

The restaurant would be a front. The owner was in a shady business- drugs, counterfeit, anything on the black market. Someone had come to "do business," but had been the one to take them down. Sarah could only hope it had been someone on their side, and not a rival dealer, money launderer, et cetera. It would be even messier, if another assassin was involved.

She paused, and examined one of the men's face. There was a cut just above the eyebrow, about where her former partner would always land his kicks. She reminisced a moment, and then started breathing harder, becoming slightly lightheaded.

Bryce. This was Bryce.

Sarah only sat and thought for a moment before she bolted outside.

Bryce was binding the two men together with some thick twine when Chuck began to make small talk. "So, what brings you to L.A.?"

Bryce stopped what he was doing to smile at Chuck. "You haven't changed one bit, Chuck."

"Actually, Bryce, buddy, you're a bit wrong about that," he countered, wanting to get onto the forever elusive subject about the Intersect. If he called in Sarah and/or Casey and/or Kaden, he wouldn't have any one-on-one time with the man who had ultimately changed his life.

Bryce waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "Sure, the Intersect, whatever. But you've kept your strangely optimistic personality, even though we're tying up killers affiliated with one of the largest diamond heists since Ala Morgano."

Chuck took a moment to consider the bloody faces of the black-clad men. "I was going to ask you what was up with these 'bad guys,' since you insisted on using the first grade term for my sake, I assume."

Bryce let out a low laugh, and smiled fondly. "There it is again. I wouldn't mind spending some more time around you, Chuck."

Chuck bit back a rather unkind retort, and hoped it wouldn't be too obvious if he simply smiled, rather than returning the compliment.

It didn't get past Bryce, though. He gave a wry smile. "I know, I know, you probably wouldn't mind if I never showed up again- and you're not the only one." Chuck flushed, and his breath caught in his throat. Did Bryce know about him and Sarah?

Right on cue, she burst through the doors, gun in hand. Her shoulders fell when she saw Chuck talking calmly to Bryce, who was sitting next to a few more unconscious people. How did Chuck get tied up in this?

"Sarah," Bryce breathed, his eyes fixed on her. Chuck could see him devouring her with his eyes alone, and decided to look away.

And maybe it was just his hopeful imagination, but he seemed to sense he wasn't the only one who was mildly uncomfortable. And in that uncomfortable moment, Casey and Kaden decided to stroll out through the doors Sarah had just breezed through.

"What is this, a freakin' party?" Chuck whined, and sat down, his head in his hands. But he couldn't help but note his other two partners' reactions. Casey's was definitely expected- a rather angry look, that had a tint of hunger in it. A hunger for violence.

Kaden's was a little different. Her large, dark green eyes were as wide as saucers, and her full lips were slightly parted. Her body was positioned like she'd just had the wind knocked out of her, and Chuck assumed that was not your average effect, with someone like her.

Bryce had a look of horror on his face as his blue eyes met her green ones, and he began shaking his head. His lips were moving slightly, and it took Chuck a few moments to realize he was whispering, "No…no…no…"

Suddenly, Kaden's face turned into a mask of fury. "You," she snarled menacingly, and Bryce put his hands out in a gesture of protection as she took a few rapid steps forward.

Casey nodded thoughtfully, watching the scene unfold. Kaden was now mere inches from Bryce, with a face more livid than he'd ever seen her wear. "I take it you two have met before?"


	10. Choose a Side

"Oh, yes," Kaden answered, prodding Bryce on the chest with her pointer finger. "We've met." One corner of her mouth was turned down in a snarling grimace, and Chuck saw the first signs of the volatile Hispanic's bad temper.

Bryce, for the first time Casey had ever seen, had lost his smartass, ultra-confident demeanor, and looked completely terrified. For the sake of his own pride, he tried not to think about how much less frightened Bryce had been when he'd seen him standing over him with a gun in hand, and a should-have-been fatal wound penetrating his chest. Of course, Kaden was rather talented in the area of causing people to be scared stiff. Casey had always respected her for that.

Bryce could feel a light sheen of sweat covering his forehead, but he neglected to wipe it off. One of the few people in the world he truly feared stood before him, after he'd hoped for so long she'd be dead. He immediately began to defend himself. "I hadn't planned on the explosion in Salamanca," he panted, unable to meet her eyes, dropping his down to her cleavage instead.

She gave an angry snort. "Oh? Really now?" She picked him up by his shirt collar. Chuck muffled an inappropriate snort. Sarah rolled her eyes in his direction, and he shrugged in a what can you do? kind of way. Even Sarah had to admit that Bryce Larkin being held up by a woman at least six inches shorter than he was tugging on her laughter strings.

Kaden narrowed her eyes, now black with fury. "Let me ask you this, Mr. _Larkin_, is it now, had you planned on being a double agent? 'Accidentally' mistaking the innocent tourists' car for the terrorists' car we were supposed to be following, virtually giving them a pass to go on a killing spree? And then how about blowing up the building that I had specifically warned you to avoid at all costs?" An angry tear slid down her cheek. "That, coincidentally, was housing my husband and family on that particular day?"

The other three members of the group gasped, and winced. Chuck nearly fainted; Sarah had to hold him up. At Bryce's shameful silence, Casey took the chance to speak up.

"Man, that is the worst mission screw-up I've heard about in ages." He shook his head, and gave Bryce a sturdy kick to the waist. "Moron."

Bryce, again, tried fruitlessly to defend himself. "Oh, and it wasn't enough as payback that you shot me sixteen times, and landed me out of the field for almost a year?" Kaden slowly lowered him, and got very close to his face, with almost no space between her lips and his. Bryce looked confused.

"Occupational hazard," She whispered, and gave him a slap for good measure, walking back to the crowd that Casey, Sarah, and Chuck had formed.

Bryce landed hard on his knees, only too aware that his every movement was being watched by a former lover, a former friend, a former killer, and a woman who definitely hadn't gotten over her hatred for him. "Sarah? Chuck?" He motioned to the two. "Care to take a shot, and join the club?" He spat the blood in his mouth out into the dirt.

"I wouldn't mind taking another," Casey growled, stepping forward, but Sarah stopped him with her arm. But before Bryce could appreciate the gesture, she turned her own glaring gaze toward him.

"Not a word, Bryce," she began, and threw her hands up in the air. "How could you keep that from me? When was this?" She paced the area, back and forth, and as he opened his mouth, she shook her head. "I changed my mind; I don't want to know." She gave him one final glare, and then coolly turned her eyes from menacing to business-oriented. "Sloppy job, here," she remarked, nudging a body with her toe.

"Yeah, well, I don't have Mr. Trigger Happy here to watch my back," Bryce scowled, as he thought he had done nicely, considering certain limitations.

"I've got a suggestion," Chuck said, his voice high-pitched and a little shaky. "Let's set aside our differences- only for a moment, that's all I'm asking," he modified at Kaden's raised eyebrow. "I didn't miss seeing the original fight these guys put up, and I'm not looking forward to when they all wake up with extremely massive headaches, either. So let's stuff them in a closet, whatever, and get outta here."

"We've gotta take the leader in," Bryce said, wheezing a little as he held his side tenderly and got up off the ground. "He needs to be interrogated."

Sarah gave him a condescending look. "Which one's the leader?"

Casey answered first. "This guy. He looks like a leader, in these sorts of groups." Bryce nodded reluctantly, as Casey grabbed the body by the ankles, apathetically causing the head to hit off every stone he passed by.

"Watch, now, you don't want to kill him," Bryce warned, wincing as if it were his own head every blow the skull of the body took. He had figured that may have been Casey's intention- just a not-so-subtle way of letting out his anger. His loyalty to Kaden, though, was admirable. It was Sarah he couldn't quite figure out- she couldn't know Kaden very well, judging by the little hints and signs her body language and words had dropped. A day, at most. He sighed, and guessed it was simply on principal that she had sided with Kaden. Emotions had always been difficult for her. He had been imagining the first moment he'd see her since she had turned down his offer to go deep for a while, and this was nothing like it.

"I didn't think that was so much of a concern for you," Kaden hissed, slinging a heavier man over her back, who was at least twice her size. "What's another casualty?"

He closed his eyes, and waited until the frustration had passed. He knew she was setting him up, to get everyone further on her side by making him emit another blunder that made him sound like an empty bomb-detonating machine. Sarah knew otherwise. Chuck knew otherwise. Hell, even Casey knew otherwise. However, he supposed that, by whatever phenomenon, that this woman they'd only known for a short time could change their view.

He had screwed up in Salamanca, as Casey had so professionally put it. But he had professionally put it behind him, and hoped the feisty little Spaniard would put it behind her, too. Or die. That worked just as well, in this situation.

"Move it, Larkin," Casey ordered, and flung another body at him, which hit him in the chest, and caused him to topple over. He still hadn't quite regained his footing- it seemed he was the world's punching bag, today. "Your mess, you got us wrapped up in this- now get off your ass before I have to sing the freaking clean up song."

Chuck hummed a few slightly off notes of said cleanup song, which, naturally, only aggravated Casey further, and caused him to hurl yet another body at Bryce. "Shut up, Bartowski."

The job was done in a few minutes, with everyone working steadily. Sarah turned the situation over in her mind; not the one about whatever dealings had been going on in La Viva de Italia, but the one concerning Bryce.

She couldn't let what had happened the last time Bryce had come into her life again happen again. It had taken weeks for Chuck to trust her again, and while she wasn't sure she'd had his love return yet, his trust had. But she'd found out, it didn't take as much to break it as she'd thought. It was a dangerous dance the two were doing, always on the brink of some life-changing decision.

Sarah honestly couldn't take it much longer.

Only problem was, she had no idea what to choose.

But with Bryce in town? It could be fun…after all, it was almost ridiculously easy to make him mad. Or jealous. Although that, of course, wouldn't be the only reason to establish a "real" relationship with Chuck. There were many, many reasons Sarah could think of why she should hook up with Chuck, and none of them had to do with her ex-lover.

She made sure to give him a warm smile as they hauled the last body out to the shed behind the restaurant. Honestly, she had only meant to make Bryce jealous that time, but found herself caught in Chuck's warm, brown eyes. Like liquid pools of chocolate. His happily surprised grin caught her off guard, and she kept staring at him far longer than she'd meant to.

However, she looked away in time to see a flicker of confusion in Bryce's eyes, replaced by disbelief, and then disregard. He could misjudge things so badly, sometimes, when he saw the world the way he would like to see it. And sadly, that occurred more often than it probably should.

"Go home, Chuck," Sarah suggested softly, putting her hand on his shoulder. "You've had a rough day- well, a rough past couple of days. Get some sleep, so you'll be ready in the morning." Even though Chuck protested, Sarah finally convinced him to go home and get a few hours of shut eye. The lack of sleep was starting to show on him. Frankly, Sarah wouldn't have minded to catch some z's herself, but she knew the night was young yet. The team had some things to work out, and Chuck didn't need to be around.

Chuck had just settled under the covers when his phone rang. He groaned. He really was thankful Sarah had sent him home, although he would've liked to help. He looked at the phone, the number wasn't anyone he knew. "Hello?" he answered reluctantly.

"Sorry it's so late, dude, but my computer just crashed and I need it tomorrow so I can hand in my paper," an unfamiliar voice said, talking almost too quickly to understand. Actually, maybe he had heard that voice before, somewhere... "Oh- uh, it's 116th and Samson. We'll be there to flag you down." The caller hung up before Chuck could even say a word. Even more reluctantly, he rolled out of bed and into the car, not bothering to change out of his undershirt and ratty old sweatpants. It would've been more rewarding if he was paid overtime.

Still yawning and briefly wondering if he should even be driving, Chuck leisurely meandered toward Samson, and when he reached where it met 116th, he couldn't see anyone. So, believe it or not, Chuck was stupid enough to get out and fold his arms, standing directly beneath the stop sign. Just as he was about to get back in his car and drive away, he heard something loudly run up behind him, and slowly turned as he yawned again.

There were three men, clad entirely in black, all in rather ridiculous positions.

"We have reached the Intersect," one of them commented in a deep voice, and Chuck felt all the blood run out of his face. He had walked straight into a trap- and there was no one to save him, this time.

Chuck gave a little shriek, and when one of the men came toward him, he freaked out and threw a hard punch to his head. With some satisfaction, he watched the man fall to the ground, yelling and holding his face. Immediately after, the other two ripped off their masks. Jeff and Morgan.

"God, Chuck, what did you do that for?!" Morgan cried out, causing several of the lights of the houses in the little suburban neighborhood to turn on.

Chuck sighed, and knelt down. "Lester?" The writhing figure moaned in agreement. "I'm sorry, Lester. I didn't mean to hit you that hard- just next time, please don't come towards me wearing a mask and dark clothes?" Chuck paused as Lester fumbled with the mask. "I've got enough to worry about already."

Lester carefully removed the cloth, and touched his cheek tenderly. "You got in a lucky punch, Chuck. Lucky punch." The bruise had already formed, and was beginning to swell.

Chuck snorted, but decided not to disagree. He was only rather disappointed his best right hook in years had been delivered to, of all people, Lester. Then something clicked. "Wait…you guys called me down here? What's with the ninja costumes?"

"Chuck," Morgan began softly, taking it slow at the confusion on his friend's face. "Although you've resisted greatly, we know you have information that we all need." He tapped Chuck's forehead, standing on his tip toes to do so. Chuck's eyes automatically tilted upward, and he sighed as he put together some more pieces in this strange little puzzle.

"When you said the Intersect…you meant the intersection of 116th and Samson?" Chuck began slowly, deciding to clear that part up first. They all nodded, and Chuck felt his tense shoulders drop in relief. "Is this about Casey?" he inquired, tapping his chin.

"You're the only one who has ever had a real conversation with him, Chuck," Morgan said in almost a defensive manner. Jeff and Lester flanked him on either side, silent for once. Morgan had probably told them to shut up, as to not screw whatever operation they thought they were running up…and that was a very reasonable fear, on Morgan's part.

"I'm gonna leave now, so I can actually get some sleep, for once," Chuck muttered, and sauntered back to the Nerd Herder.

"Alright then, Chuck, we can persuade you or take you by force," Lester stepped in, while Morgan confirmed Chuck's suspicions, and clapped a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

"Listen, Lester, if you wanna force me to do anything, I think you'd better heal up first. Good night, everybody." Chuck shut the door of the Herder, and prayed he wouldn't fall asleep while driving. He'd wrecked enough Herders since he'd gotten involved with the Intersect, and he didn't want one of the incidents to be on his own time.

"Goodbye, Chuck Bartowski- you're our only hoooooooooooooooope…" Morgan's voice echoed in the background, and Chuck shook his head in sorrow. If he was pulling out Star Wars references, he had to be pretty desperate. If Casey didn't scare the hell outta him- plus, he was genuinely grateful about all the protecting he'd been doing- he might give Morgan a hand with this one.

The car was filled with a tense silence as Casey drove Kaden, Sarah, and Bryce to his apartment. He had one hand on the wheel, the other fixing the rear view mirror absentmindedly, as if deep in thought. Sarah frowned, staring at the ground, probably aware of how intently Bryce was staring at her, his intense blue eyes seeking hers. Kaden sat as far away from him as possible, almost as if he was tainted, or had an infectious disease. She observed the scene thoughtfully, and tapped her chin.

It was almost common knowledge, well-known in the inner government circles, that Walker and Larkin had been lovers. They had both told a few people in strictest confidence, which was about the equivalent of yelling it into a microphone connected to several amplifiers, all broadcasting directly on live news on every major station in the country. Yeah, that bad.

It was time to stir things up- Kaden hadn't caused any major chaos in a while, and she'd have to work on that during this assignment.

Sadly, Bryce interrupted just before she was about to bring a sore subject up, and she reluctantly closed her mouth, and turned to stare out the window intently.

"Is it really safe for us to be meeting so close to where Chuck will be?" he asked, looking at everyone individually, and noticing how none of them met his eyes. He didn't miss how Kaden assumed a flat, emotionless expression as soon as he began speaking, but decided not to comment.

Casey simply grunted, loathe to give a longer response. Sarah bit her lip, and seemed to be thinking about very different things than what he had just brought up. Bryce laid his head back, and emitted a soft sigh as he closed his eyes.

He tried a different subject. "So, is there any particular reason why none of you have shot me yet? Or even tried?" After a couple moments of the usual silence, he muttered, "Is it for Chuck?"

Casey chuckled darkly. "Oh, I'm sure Chuck wouldn't mind so much if we took you out, right now." He adjusted the mirror again, and glanced at Bryce sarcastically. "Sadly, we have a bit of a problem we're hoping you can shed some light on."

Bryce frowned. "Is it…Fulcrum related?" he asked reluctantly, wincing as he said the word that had caused him so much grief in the past year. Kaden gave a soft, sadistic smile as she noticed this.

"Bryce, just shut up until we get inside a more secure location," Sarah ordered, massaging her temples. He winced again, this time at the spite in her voice. But he listened, and obeyed.

Casey sighed happily. The sound of Larkin's voice grated on his nerves, and every word he spoke made him grimace. He was supposed to be dead. To Casey, he was a testament to every mistake he'd made, and every time he'd been called incompetent. Which wasn't often, but was often enough. The most glaring example at the moment was that he hadn't killed Bryce well enough, apparently. Anyone who could be brought back from the dead was, obviously, not dead enough to satisfy.

Casey pulled into the garage, and the four agents exited quietly. Sarah stopped a moment, standing a few feet behind the other three, and automatically looked away when Bryce turned around. Just his presence made her insides quiver, from her throat to the pit of her stomach. And what bugged her the most was that she wasn't sure why, other than a pitifully small voice that could only say, "wrong."

Kaden couldn't predict how this briefing would go, but she smiled in anticipation. Things could quickly get very interesting.

A/N: I apologize if I messed up the Star Wars quote. I understand it's an insult to the very essence of Chuck, but I'll admit, it's been a while since I've seen the movies. Please review!


	11. Plots Thicken

"Well, now you've got me in here, and believe me, I'm not going anywhere," Bryce said, his voice tainted with annoyance. "What do you want?"

Sarah and Casey exchanged cautious looks, while Kaden stared contentedly out the window into the dark, rainy landscape. Or, rather, the rain running through the Bartowskis' gutter. The three decided to speak at the same time.

"There's something up with the Intersect."

"Graham and Beckman are up to something."

"Random assassins keep turning up and trying to off us."

"Do you think there's a connection?" he asked, rubbing his temples absentmindedly, taking the shocking new surprisingly well, and keeping his semi-calm demeanor. "And what's wrong with the Intersect? How do you know about the Director and the General?"

Sarah looked at Casey, offering him a chance to explain the situation, which he blatantly turned down. After shooting him a mild glare, she took a deep breath and began. "It all began when Edward Blonning, top notch hired gun, showed up in the Wienerlicious. Chuck flashed, said he was out to kill some diplomats. Hired by the CIA." Bryce furrowed his brow. "I know. Later that night, after an evening filled with rather…extraordinary circumstances, we encountered a certain Leopold Reptard in Casey's apartment. Also sent by the CIA, for purposes unknown."

Bryce was on his feet. "I put him away! I spent four freaking months chasing him around the country, and he had a life sentence!" He began pacing, grunting occasionally in frustration.

Casey casually pushed him back onto the couch, with one of his own grunts. "Calm down, Larkin. Apparently, your superiors decided to unleash him again, but that's not what you should be most concerned with right now." The two men had a brief stare down, with Bryce finally acquiescing.

"Go on."

Sarah smiled in satisfaction. "The next morning, we witnessed a private conversation between Beckman and Graham which indicated they were plotting something we wouldn't know about, and that things were going as planned." She closed her eyes a moment, and shook what they had heard from her shoulders like a spider crawling up her spine.

Casey nodded encouragingly, and she reluctantly told what she knew she had to tell next.

"Immediately afterward, Chuck had an incorrect flash."

Bryce was on his feet again, with Casey rolling his eyes this time. "Impossible," he spat, and Sarah couldn't help but to flinch. His anger was pointed towards her. "The Intersect doesn't have errors."

"Well, it's not my fault!" Sarah lost her temper at his accusing glares. She threw up her hands, and began pacing the side of the room that he wasn't on. "I could go on and on about you and your beloved Intersect, but that's not even the point right now! Just because you can't imagine- conceive- an idea doesn't mean it's impossible! Like--" Sarah stopped herself, and sucked a breath inward. She had almost compromised her feelings for Chuck in front of three fellow agents. And it looked like Casey knew it.

Kaden had perked up, too. For the first time in the briefing, she looked attentive. Of course, looks could be deceiving. Sarah had learned that day she could be very quick to pick up on condemning information, and retain anything important. Or controversial.

It seemed that Bryce was the only who hadn't noticed Sarah's slip. He looked too angry.

"When did I say it was your fault, Sarah? That's your problem- you think you're so intuitive, that you don't miss a thing, and you always interpret it correctly. When, in reality, you use it as a cover, because you have no idea what to do next!" Even through the now very raised voices, the four agents stopped dead at the sound of a car pulling into the driveway next door, and the flash of headlights that lit up the dark room momentarily.

"It's just Chuck," Sarah breathed, her heart returning to its normal rate. The very thought of him at this hour calmed her nerves, messy hair and wrinkled shirt, sleepy brown eyes under flexible eyebrows. Her face involuntarily assumed a rather vague, dreamy smile.

He obviously didn't have the same effect on Bryce, who seemed to heat up even more as Sarah cooled down. "Oh, why, it's the man of the hour! Why don't I bring him over here, and we'll continue this with someone more neutral?"

Kaden snorted, unable to hold back. "Chuck is hardly neutral." She shut her lips, made the motion of locking them, and threw away the invisible key. Casey chuckled derisively. Sarah flushed. This, somehow, Bryce did not miss.

He narrowed his eyes. "Why do I feel like there's something you're not telling me?"

--

When Chuck pulled in, he was almost too tired to notice the car in Casey's driveway, and even closer to not being able to put together that they were meeting. Without him. He weighed his options, and just decided to hope he wouldn't regret his decision.

--

Casey was suddenly pacing, covering the area of the room in between Bryce and Sarah. "Bryce, you don't have much leverage here, and I think you'd better let us tell you what we know, or else we could resort to less civilized methods." He stopped walking just long enough to crack his knuckles and his neck.

Kaden sat up in her seat, hogging the couch she now had all to herself. "Goody. I haven't seen you use them, Casey, since the rude masked man at General Havrogh's ball, in the bathroom." She paused a moment. "Unless, of course, you count the time you sexed up that Bolivian chick who had the only key to the terrorist arms dealer's warehouse up her kitty." Sarah and Bryce winced.

Casey's eyes glittered dangerously. "Those were extraordinary circumstances."

"Yeah, well, what I heard in the room next door was rather extraordinary, too." Casey, grinning, cuffed her on the head. Kaden, also laughing, gave a little shriek, and flapped her arms in the air in protest.

Sarah grinned broadly. Although obscene and blunt, Kaden really did know how to lighten up a situation- and she was beginning to appreciate that. Only a few moments before, everyone had been ready to bite someone's head off, and now they were laughing like old friends.

That would be why they missed Chuck's entrance.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and decided he'd had enough watching their friendly teasing and affectionate banter. "Well, now I see how it is," he said, as they all straightened up. "I mean, I might not be the most popular guy around, but you really don't need to get all tense and sober when I come around." Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. "Oh, don't worry, I'll be leaving now- I really wouldn't want to interrupt your little party here, only if you were doing something work-related."

Chuck shook his head in sorrow as he walked out the door, leaving a trail of open mouths. So, what, when the Intersect comes around, they act like they hate each other, but as soon as they think he isn't looking, they're all old friends? He felt like the nerd in high school who wasn't invited to all of the season's hottest parties all over again. He was just as bad as the parent happening upon a drug exchange.

The four agents watched in horror as Chuck walked away, slowly, almost as if he was hoping one of them would stop him. Sarah would've, but they really did have important things to discuss that he shouldn't be there for. She closed her eyes as soon as he was out the door, and made a rather spontaneous decision.

"Casey, finish the briefing, I'm going after Chuck." She picked up her coat, and her hand was on the door knob before anyone could protest.

"If you must," Casey conceded, with Bryce's face the very picture of confusion.

"Wait, Sarah," he interrupted, and she considered simply walking away. "Is it really that important? I mean, we've all felt left out before, and it isn't included in your assignment to console the kid, is it? Just stay here, and we can work this mess out." He grabbed her arm, tightly, but she shook him off. Before he could protest any more, Sarah flew out the door, and slammed it behind her.

Bryce looked dismayed. "I just don't know what's up with her any more."

Kaden leaned toward him, and glancing around as if in paranoia, she crooked a finger to indicate his leaning in. Casey held his breath and closed his eyes.

"I don't know if you're familiar with it, Bryce, but it's a crazy little thing called-" she took a deep breath, while Casey put his face in his hands.

"PMS."

Sarah jogged half-heartedly after him. "Chuck! Wait!" He turned around briefly, but waved his hand and turned back around. Sarah's temper rose a little. "I don't know what you think was going on in there, but you obviously weren't there for the entire meeting."

"Yeah, because I was excluded purposely. I'm not sure what I think, either, but I don't like it." Chuck climbed in through the Morgan door, and his shoulders fell as Sarah deftly entered after him. "Sarah…" he began, not wanting to finish the sentence, or tell her to leave.

She put her hand on his, and she felt him flinch at her touch. It hurt. Her eyes went blank, and she switched onto auto-pilot professional mode. "We called the meeting because we needed to talk about the situation, and I didn't want you up that late." Sarah's ability to tell little white lies had been coming in handy, although with every one, her heart felt just a little more weighed down. But it was better than telling- what, a big black lie? Or even worse, the truth.

Chuck didn't fall for it. "Even if that was true, what was the nature of the meeting? Sit around and tell stories and jokes like old friends, and leave Chuck out? The loser who still lives with his sister, and took a call from the Nerd Herd line at three in the morning?"

"Chuck, believe it or not, we were all at each others' throats not five minutes before you decided to make your presence known. Kaden was the only one who could remain sitting for more than ten seconds." Sarah softened a little bit at his hurt, and then became puzzled at something he'd said. "What was the Nerd Herd call about?"

"Oh, just Morgan's ongoing plot to throw Casey out of the Buy More."

Sarah snorted. "Are you kidding me?"

"Definitely not. This may be one of Morgan's more ludicrous ideas, but it's very real." Chuck smiled reminiscently. "He's got a few allies- Jeff, Lester, and Anna, just to name a few. And he's taken on a spy theme, ironically enough."

Shaking her head, Sarah let a laugh escape. It felt good. Chuck also looked pleasantly surprised. She wanted the conversation to continue. "How far is he taking the spy thing?"

Chuck grinned. "Knowing Morgan, I wouldn't be surprised if he'd installed some surveillance equipment around the store." Just after it hit Sarah, realization at what he'd said hit him like a ton of bricks. "Surveillance…in the Buy More…oh, god."

The two exchanged worried looks, and Chuck grabbed his keys off his nightstand. He prepared for another sleepless night. "I'll drive."

Sarah eyed the bags under his eyes, and pushed him back down on the bed. "No, Chuck, you need sleep. These past two days must have exhausted you."

"Sarah, I know Morgan. We have a much better chance of locating any cameras- or even bugs- if you take me with you." Sarah silently agreed through her sigh of admission, and Chuck sat up.

She eyed him rather flirtatiously. "But I'm driving."

--

"Is there anything else I need to know?" Bryce asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. No matter what the circumstances, unlike Chuck, he would not have refused sleep. After all, he'd been up the entire night last night anyway, gathering required information for the job he'd completed earlier that evening. Unfortunately for him, his job was about to get a lot harder.

Kaden sat up. "Do you, by chance, happen to know who a certain Dr. Vernon would be?"

Bryce nodded slowly, and grimaced. "Please tell me he's not tied up into all this." Casey and Kaden nodded, silently. Bryce sucked in a deep breath, and put his head in his hands. "Dr. Vernon- you might remember him, Casey? He was there on the night I stole the Intersect- on the night I died."

Kaden just groaned. "Just spill it, Larkin. Who does he work for? Why is he bad news?" She cocked her head to the side with a sarcastic expression. "I can't stand the suspense."

Bryce ignored her. "He shot at me, but not to kill, unlike some." He coughed, inclining his head towards our dear friend John. "Of course, there were a lot of bullets flying that night, and most of them toward me."

"Larkin_, who does he work for,_" Kaden hissed, raising her eyebrows menacingly. "You know I'm impatient; and we've played around enough."

"I think I have a pretty good idea," Casey muttered, a touch of nervousness staining his voice. Kaden glanced at him, confused.

"I guess you could say he works for Tommy," Bryce whispered, just loudly enough to be heard. Casey sat down, his shoulders moving up and down as he tried to control himself. He really wanted to yell, or at least to slam Larkin against something hard. _It's not his fault, _he reminded himself several times. _Well, that particular thing isn't._

Kaden stood up, and silently fumed. "One of you had better start explaining. I don't cope well with being out of the loop-both of you should know that, after past experiences- and right now, I don't think I'm even _near _the loop."

Casey looked her in the eye and sighed. "Fulcrum. Dr. Vernon- and Tommy, for that matter- work for Fulcrum." Kaden blanched, and sat back down. After a long silence, while the agents quietly assessed the situation, Kaden smiled weakly.

"Well, this should spice up the assignment here, hmm?"

--

Chuck went pale at the first bug they found. "Does this look familiar?" he asked Sarah, weakly.

She gulped. "It's an amateur audio transmitter- something that probably could've been bought in this store. We can pinpoint the location the feed it traveling to, but my bet is on Morgan."

"What do we do?" Chuck wrung his hands, desperately wishing Sarah would grab them.

"We'll move them to a more remote location, somewhere where we can avoid when we're having a briefing. Morgan won't be aware that his equipment has been tampered with. Then, we go to Morgan's house, and find any recordings of what he's heard, and make sure there's nothing classified. Keep this on the down low- only tell Casey if you want him to straighten Morgan out." Sarah made sure to look him in the eye. "Literally."

"Sure, sure. One thing…" Chuck avoided Sarah's eyes.

She paused, sensing worry in his tone. "What is it, Chuck?" Her own tone was probably a little too soft and gentle, but she couldn't keep her feelings for him out of it. _Damn._

"How exactly are you planning on getting into Morgan's house?"

Sarah gave a wry smile. "We'll have to break in."

To her great surprise, Chuck's face lit up. "Cool." She couldn't help but to giggle, and to his great surprise, she took on of his hands, and nudged his foot. They locked eyes for a moment, which left Sarah utterly breathless. _The snake caught in the eyes of the bird. How poetic._ She could've stared forever, but when Chuck finally looked down to his shoes, she cleared her throat. "So when do we go?" Chuck asked, surprisingly excited about breaking and entering. Into his friend's house, which was technically his friend's parents' house.

She checked her watch, and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Chuck, but we have to find out if he knows anything ASAP."

He groaned, and slumped against the wall. "Now?" he guessed, already beginning to fall asleep, he guessed. Because, the affection in Sarah's eyes couldn't have been real. He embraced the dream, basking in her loving gaze. "Can I at least sleep in the car?"


	12. Men In Black

Kaden stood up for the first time, and clapped her hands together. "Okay. Fulcrum. We've dealt with Fulcrum before; this isn't so different, right?" She tapped her chin, while the two men sitting before her regarded her with something between respect, admiration, confusion, and alarm.

Casey grimaced. "They've got an entire agency on us, not to mention several important contacts with skills in specific areas. We have four field agents, and a clumsy, unqualified kid with highly classified secrets inside his head. And he's the one they want."

Bryce froze for a moment, and turned to them. "Well, eventually, yes. But how do you know he's the one whose life is in immediate danger?"

Casey sighed inwardly. "Because, Bryce, ever since you gave him all the secrets, that's how it is. Always has been, and probably always will be."

Bryce was shaking his head, and got up to check the apartment for listening devices. "You know if there are any…insects in here?" he mouthed, using the code word, even though he was barely speaking. Casey nodded, but began searching with him. "We could just re-locate," Bryce mouthed again, but the two other agents shook their heads.

"This is a more secure location, no matter how many spiders we have to kill." Casey picked one from the inside the drop ceiling. "Kaden, care to climb up there and do the honors? There's probably several more up there, and not only are you the lightest, but I know you've always enjoyed the ceilings."

Kaden grinned darkly. "My pleasure." She grabbed hold and swung her legs up, in one fluid movement. Several more "spiders" were dropped from above, and the two men found plenty- really, enough to fill an entire warehouse nicely. Casey's stomach plummeted. It could be expected, but did every square foot of his already cramped living quarters need to have a XMS 74 in it? He'd thought the General trusted him…but she couldn't stop him now.

Bryce stared in horror at the 250 XMS-74's they'd found. They stuffed them in a padded box in the back of Casey's closet, which would buy them a little time. As soon as they were sure the apartment was secure, he began to talk.

"Fulcrum's antics can be a bit different than what you'd expect from a normal agency. For instance, instead of going straight for the package, they might go for the handlers first." He glanced at Casey, and noted the tightening fists as his only reaction. "If they made the agencies an offer they couldn't refuse, your termination order could be closer than you'd ever imagined, Mr. John Casey. It couldn't be a standard operation, due to the involvement with Fulcrum- I'm sure they'd want that to be kept on the down low. The agencies have a new plan, and you're not involved with it."

Casey really, really wanted to hurt Larkin. He wanted to slam him against the wall, and bash his head through the plaster. The words that were coming out of his mouth hit him like a ton of bricks, but he knew Larkin was right. Bryce took the submissive sigh as confirmation that Casey knew he was telling the truth. To be honest, he'd expected a much bigger protest.

"What about the flash Chuck had? The one with false results?" Kaden asked, sitting down next to Casey so she could reassure him. Termination orders were the thing every agent feared most- much, much worse than a death on an assignment. It suggested inadequacy, or failure to obey. And Casey, of all people, had never expected to hear those words. He considered himself an important asset to the government.

Bryce cringed. "There are some…rumors going around." As he paused, he remembered how angry Kaden had gotten when he'd drawn out a piece of information, and Casey didn't seem too happy, either. "Rumors that with extremely advanced technology, waves of information can be sent out to any receiver." At his resistance to say what he intended, Casey assumed the worst.

"And our little buddy Chuck is a receiver?"

Bryce nodded solemnly, and continued. "Fulcrum would have the equipment and ability to send out these waves, pointed directly at Chuck. I don't know what the purpose is- if it's to lead us astray, or him- but whatever it is, we know one thing; the Intersect cannot be trusted."

Casey pulled out his phone. He dialed Walker's number, and swore loudly when it went to voicemail. He had a bad feeling about this. "Walker, this is Casey. Code Orange. There's a possibility we've been compromised. Return to headquarters immediately- and don't let Bartowski out of your sight. Oh- and don't act on any of his flashes." He sighed, and dialed Chuck's number next.

--

"So, you just keep several sets of black clothing in your trunk at all times?" Chuck asked, stuffing his legs into stretchy black pants that were a little on the small side. "Is there an incident which prompted that?"

Sarah smiled at his teasing, and put a knife in the holster in the small of her back. "Not really- I guess I'm just always prepared for this kind of stuff." She slid a gun and a few throwing stars up her tight pant leg, but Chuck grabbed her hand, raising his eyebrows.

"Sarah. Please. This is Morgan we're dealing with, here. He'll be so ecstatic that ninjas are robbing his house, he'll want our autograph."

Sarah rolled her eyes, but put back one of the throwing stars. "It's not Morgan that I'm worried about, Chuck," she admitted, trying to be gentle. She didn't want to worry him more than was necessary. "It's just…the tapes may be intercepted. If anyone found out that a lowly Buy More employee- and no offense, Chuck, you're not lowly- had gotten hold of tapes that might contain information pertaining to the mysterious Intersect, there would be five or six agencies all scrambling to find them." She patted his arm when she found all the blood had drained from his face. "Luckily, I think we're first."

Chuck gulped. There was no way Morgan could deal with that. When Sarah was tying her shoe, he awkwardly slipped a knife up his own sleeve. He wasn't sure what he planned on doing with it, but it made him feel more comfortable.

"I saw that," she whispered, and gave him an approving smile. "I'm glad you're finally grasping the idea of the danger, here, just don't hurt yourself." Chuck would've been more insulted, but he could tell she was just looking out for him. And thus, he decided to take it as a compliment. Sarah was being unusually gentle and kind toward him, these days.

He wasn't complaining. Well, as long as it wasn't Bryce who was causing it.

"By the way, how did you know where Morgan lives?" Chuck asked, and Sarah smiled sheepishly.

"The CIA asked me to check out any locations where you could be found, and any people that would be around you intimately. I mean, as friends, Chuck, don't freak out," Sarah said, laughing, as his face paled at the word intimate. "So, let's just say I've been through here before- and anything you don't know about Morgan, you could find out about in his bedroom." She eyed Chuck. "Of course, I don't think that would be a problem for you."

"Well, at least I'm not obsessive, like Morgan," Chuck countered. "I can't list his favorite thirty flavors of ice cream in reverse order. Maybe, like five, at the most." Sarah grinned beneath her face mask. Chuck struggled with his.

"Never committed a masked, armed robbery before?" Sarah teased, and used the moment as an excuse to touch his face as she helped him pull it down over his head. She couldn't help but to lightly run her fingers through his hair…god, it was so soft…

Chuck shivered in pleasure at her touch, but smiled sadly underneath the black cloth. With his luck, it would all be gone in the morning- that's how these things usually ran. Sarah could take all her liberties at night, in the dark, alone, but when Chuck came forward in the morning, he was faced with a cool rejection. He didn't know how much longer he could take it.

"Turn off your cell phone," Sarah reminded, and pressed the power button on hers. Chuck suddenly felt a gut feeling, and rather than turn it off, he set the vibrate option, and stuck it in his back pocket. He glanced nervously at Sarah to see if she'd noticed, but she took his glance as anxiousness about their little "mission," rather than something regarding his phone.

"Don't worry. You're right- this is just Morgan we're dealing with, and if he asks for your autograph, you had better turn him down." Chuck guessed she was kidding, since he couldn't see her face, but didn't return a remark. He was suddenly regretting asking to come along.

They crept inside the house, through the sliding door on the porch they'd climbed up on. Sarah had almost giggled while Chuck struggled to noiselessly swing his legs over the railing around the deck, but looked at him in admiration, all the same. She was so proud he felt he was ready for this kind of mission. Who knows? It could open up all new doors, and he could become more of a partner than a charge.

Sarah went first, and drew her gun out as she peeked around the corner. She stole a few steps around until she found the stairs, and Chuck indicated which bedroom was Morgan's. There was a flashing light coming from underneath the door, but the same part of a song- which Chuck later informed her was the Call of Duty theme song- kept replaying, so she guessed he had fallen asleep, probably mid-game.

Chuck quickly pulled open the door, and Sarah's suspicions were confirmed. She grabbed an injection needle out of her sleeve, and stabbed it into Morgan's neck. Chuck had to look away, merely for Morgan's pride.

"Man-- what the--?" he stuttered, before falling back on the pillow, and after he banged his head off of the headboard. Sarah held up the needle for Chuck to see. It was labeled _Ketamine. _Chuck couldn't help but to wince- Morgan was in for a massive headache, whenever he would wake up, which wouldn't be too soon. Sarah indicated for him to start searching, and Chuck began to go through Morgan's drawers. Luckily, the job wasn't too hard- Sarah had found a package of tapes labeled "Operation: Casey" inside his underwear drawer. Sarah mused that it would've been easier if they had been in any other drawer.

Chuck couldn't help but to give Sarah a high five. He was buoyed at the feeling of success, and he could tell she was proud of him too. The entire operation would've gone smoothly, if they hadn't met another black clad figure on the back porch.

--

An agent sat in an inconspicuous cubicle at headquarters, crunching absentmindedly on a chocolate energy bar. He mused silently on whether it was a rip-off of the five dollars he'd paid for it. Well, whether it was loaded with caffeine or not, it did taste good. He gulped quickly when he realized he'd zoned out, and at the sudden lack of noise, except a light scratching sound, he adjusted the bulky headphones on his ears. With the new devices everyone else was getting, of course he'd been stuck with the crappy old, dinosaur headphones. Some new ear buds would be nice.

But he suddenly realized he was mistaken when the crackling, scratching tone continued. It wasn't his equipment; it was his subjects. He cursed, and grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket, dialing Graham's number. He impatiently drummed his fingers on his desk, waiting for his call to be forwarded.

"Director, this is Agent Barrows, reporting from headquarters on subject 964530001, location Los Angeles, California. Code yellow. The listening devices have been disabled, or impaired temporarily." He took another bite of his energy bar to fill the silence on the other line.

Graham finally reacted verbally. "Thank you, Agent Barrows. We will send out a package to investigate. Good work." Barrows smiled as Graham disconnected. He propped his feet up on the desk, and chomped at his energy bar. He was glad he wasn't going to have to catch a flight to L.A. at this hour, even though office work surely had its turn-offs.

The only information he'd been told about his subjects was that the information exchanged would be highly classified and important, and the Director would have private briefings himself with the subject, of which he would be warned of in advance, and the system would be shut down temporarily. He bit his lip, and licked the chocolate off of his fingertips. He pondered on whether to tell the Director they'd had new female company, plus a possible new male member, but decided to let him find it out himself. After all, everyone knew, there were no secrets from superiors.

--

"Chuck- run!" Sarah screeched, and gave the surprised visitor a swift kick to the head. Chuck hesitated, but dropped down underneath the deck. He quickly glanced around at his surroundings, muttering, "Distraction…distraction…distraction…"

Sarah wiped the sweat off her forehead, and the blood off her cheek. Her male opponent had been the first person in a while who she worried might kill her. Well, if a while meant since Lizzie, the pita girl. As she hesitated, in memory of that night, her adversary was able to land a hard punch to her groin, and she felt herself double over. But with Chuck in mind…she came back quickly, and surprised him by tackling him, and pulling his shoulder out of his socket.

The man yowled in agony, but also recovered quickly. However, Sarah had clear leverage, and swung him by his already injured shoulder off the deck completely. And then, she heard a girlish little shriek that she knew hadn't come from a girl. "Chuck," she breathed, and jumped off the railing into the driveway below.

However, it was followed by a loud clang, and Sarah was almost afraid to look. But when she did, it was Chuck who was holding the snow shovel over the bleeding, unconscious man in black. He looked terrified out of his mind, and was panting as he stared at Sarah in shock. "What…did I…did I do that?"

Sarah had never wanted to throw herself in his arms more, but she restrained on account of the motionless, scary guy lying in between them. She settled for taking her ski mask off, and letting him see just how pleased she was with him. There were little tears of laughter and happiness forming at the corners of her eyes, and her grin was from ear to ear. "Good work, Chuck."

At that moment, he felt his phone go off. Sarah cocked her head to the side, and opened her mouth to say something, but he interrupted quickly. "It's Casey- I'll put him on speakerphone." As soon as he slid the phone open and the call connected, he heard an angry voice on the other end of the line.

"Bartowski, don't say a word. Just tell Walker to check her damn voicemail." And with that, the line was disconnected. Chuck and Sarah froze a moment, looking at each other in confusion.

"Well…?" Chuck asked, hesitantly, and Sarah flushed. She pulled out her cell, and sure enough, there was a missed call and a new voicemail.

" _Walker, this is Casey. Code Orange. There's a possibility we've been compromised. Return to headquarters immediately- and don't let Bartowski out of your sight. Oh, and don't act on any of his flashes."_ Sarah's face paled, and they ran to the Porsche as fast as they could, with Sarah arriving about ten seconds before a winded Chuck.

He panted, and flung the seatbelt across his body. Sarah didn't bother to buckle hers- she simply slammed her foot on the pedal, going full speed in reverse. Chuck gasped, and his head hit the back of the seat as they zoomed, 160 miles per hour, backwards. The speedometer pushed up against the upper limit, actually hitting the higher side. Chuck made the sign of the cross, and just decided to be happy it wasn't the Nerd Herder that Sarah was driving. He made a mental note to take the keys from her, next time.

"Don't you think this is a little dramatic?" he asked, quivering, and Sarah answered with her eyes on the road, her full concentration occupied.

"If we have been compromised, anything less dramatic would be understated," she growled, and Chuck's eyes popped open. He decided not to mention how much she'd just sounded like Casey, but he didn't really need to. Sarah already knew, and was cursing herself for it.

"Do you think it would be a good idea to take in that guy we left unconscious in Morgan's backyard?" Chuck suggested, hoping it wasn't late enough to make Sarah angry.

Too late.

She swore loudly, and started to fly forward even faster than she'd been going backwards. Chuck instantly regretted his words, and sighed softly as she warned him, "Hold on, Chuck. Most racecar drivers don't go this fast, and their cars have better safety restraints."

"Just be careful," he warned, breathlessly. But he could tell Sarah had heard- her hard expression softened for just a moment. Only for a moment, then the moment's gone.

She tried to control herself, as she fought with herself in a complete internal struggle. Chuck's trust meant the world to her, and there was nothing she wanted more than to tell him so, and jam her lips up against his. However, the professional instinct massively overwhelmed it, but only in waves. She smiled a moment, and realized her hands on the steering wheel were so tense that her knuckles were as white as Chuck's face. She just hoped he didn't suffer from motion sickness, since Dramamine was one thing she didn't keep in her usually over-prepared car. It was a shame, since it would probably be more useful with her driving than the rocket launcher hidden in the false bottom of the trunk. But she'd find a use for that, eventually.

Her car hit the curb, and she concentrated all of her energy on driving, remembering the consequences if she let herself drift off again. In short, her life- and more importantly, Chuck's.

--

"There's a chance the mission has been compromised," Director Graham reported to two figures on a screen in his office, against a dimly lit background. One of them was General Beckman, and the other's features were indiscernible.

"Well then, I think it's high time we brief Major Casey and Agent Walker on their last mission," the dark figure commented, authority in his voice. The vein popped out in Director Graham's neck at being spoken down to, but he calmly collected himself. After all, for what would hopefully be a short time, the other man was technically in charge. He nodded, hoping his slip in demeanor hadn't been caught.

"A disc will be placed in the reach of the agents and the Intersect," Beckman explained, emotionless as usual. "It will contain all information regarding the situation, as part of the new honor code." Beckman couldn't hold back a frown. The code required a full explanation to be provided to any agents in the process of termination. There was a greater chance they would run, but it wasn't likely they would get far, with all available and compliant agents in the L.A. area. Most of them hadn't been informed what they were doing there yet, but were stationed, nonetheless.

Beckman had to admit, losing Major Casey would be a loss to the NSA itself. He was excellent at quick jobs, and while his methods may provoke a certain amount of disapproval, she had always approved. She had kept her eye on him as he quickly rose through the ranks, knowing he would be one of their success stories. Such a shame he'd had to land himself on that particular assignment.

The dark man in black clasped his hands together. "The disc will be transported to the receivers via a secure shipping system, and will arrive in less than twelve hours. It will set off an alarm upon opening, and you are instructed to disallow any calls or other forms of contact after the alarm has been activated. Is that clear?" He looked intensely into Graham's eyes, who responded with a cold, calculating stare.

"Of course." Before he could lose his composure, Graham cut off the connection, and sat back in his chair to simmer down. Having Fulcrum in charge was never what he'd planned, and he still felt uneasy. However, after the change had taken place and their mission was completed, the dark organization promised they'd retreat off into the shadows, never to bother the agencies again.

The Director could only hope they'd keep their promise.

A/N: Please, just keep with me here. My knowledge in the area of high tech stuff is basically nil, and everything I've learned, I've learned off of Chuck. So, at the moment, I'm just gonna take the rule that anything goes. Don't be surprised if some aliens turn up... just kidding. But-- no offense to any aliens out there reading this.


	13. Unique Interrogation

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews so far. They've been helpful in keeping me going. Of course, a few more wouldn't hurt...

After a hair-raising drive, Chuck and Sarah arrived safely back at Casey's at four in the morning with an unconscious man in black, and Chuck bearing a rather greenish complexion. Sarah decided to warn him, the next time they'd have to speed like that. Consequently, Chuck hoped they'd never have to, but Sarah knew otherwise.

"About time," Casey snarled, surprising Sarah with the speed he'd burst out of the door with. He must have been watching for them. He glared alternately at the two of his colleagues. "Where the hell did you go? Didn't it occur to you that going on a joy ride so early in the morning without informing anyone would be remotely dangerous?"

Kaden's voice could be heard from the living room. "He sounds just like my mother, when I was fifteen." Casey stomped inside, and tried to shut her in his bedroom, while she shouted out, "Don't let his anger fool you- he feels it because he harbors so much love for you inside." Slightly more muffled, Chuck heard her say, "He's just covering up how worried sick about you he was a minute ago." Then she was silent, but for the banging on the door.

As Casey came back out, he saw Sarah dragging a body. "Well, at least the joy ride was fruitful," he admitted, and helped her carry the body inside. "So what's this guy's deal? Did Chuck flash on him, or something?"

"Chuck hasn't seen his face. We thought it would be better, since his flashes aren't dependable. We broke into Morgan's house, and he tried to intercept us," Sarah muttered, tiredly, and Casey snorted.

"I can't even imagine why you'd want to break into Morgan's house--"

"He has surveillance tapes from the Buy More, which could contain information about the Intersect," Chuck explained, yawning. Casey looked furious, but when Chuck saw his fists clenched, he held up a hand. "Save it for Morgan, Casey. Just save it for Morgan."

Chuck saw Bryce trot outside to the front door where they were congregated, and Kaden dropped in from the roof, not a second later. Chuck briefly wondered how she'd escaped from Casey's bedroom, but he figured she was talented enough to get out, even in a room with no windows. She did seem to be excellent at her job, and also seemed to always put forth a full effort in whatever she did. She would be a great addition to the team.

Bryce took charge, even though he was met with more than a couple questioning glares and sighs. "Sarah, you and I can cover extracting information from the capture at La Viva Italiano; Casey, you and Kaden can extract information from the man encountered on Sarah and Chuck's most recent trip." He paused, trying to account for everyone. "Oh, and Chuck- you can listen to the tapes Morgan has, and see if there's anything important on them."

Everyone went to their positions, and Chuck grudgingly took up an old-fashioned Sony Walkman, and popped the tape in. It was doubtful Big Mike would let him take a personal day tomorrow on such short notice, especially after all the times he'd missed work due to his significant other job. He slipped the headphones on, and tried not to fall asleep, worry about falling asleep tomorrow, or have any Sarah-related fantasies. Unfortunately, he was having some trouble concentrating, mostly due to the latter option.

--

General Beckman sent a quick voicemail to the Director, after a message box appeared toward the bottom of the screen on her laptop. "Director, this is Beckman. The package has been mailed, and our prime contacts have been flown in. More updates will follow upon information." She hung up, and sat back in her seat.

In that moment, "Team Chuck," as they'd been nicknamed, had been ultimately condemned. Well, at least Walker and Casey had.

--

Although they didn't know it, at the same time both Bryce and Kaden exclaimed, "You've got to be kidding me!"

Bryce sat on the chair in Casey's bedroom, waiting with a bucket of icy water, which would be used to revive their subject. He threw his hands up in the air. "Sarah, this is ridiculous. I should think that this job would be so much more important to you than your job at that Yummy Hot Dogs, or whatever, that you wouldn't even blink at taking another sick day, and getting fired!"

"Bryce, it isn't the job, it's the cover," Sarah coolly stated, sitting on a chair as comfortably far away from him as she could get, without having the gesture be overly awkward. "If I were to get fired, it would be a major hassle to get re-hired, not to mention it would raise a few questions in Chuck's world." She looked down, smoothed out a few wrinkles on her shirt, and added, "And it's called Wienerlicious, not Yummy Hot Dogs." He snorted, but regretted it when he saw the peeved look on her face as she looked up. Was she somehow getting attached to her cover job? Impossible.

"I just think it's inevitable you'll be fired, and you should get it over with," he muttered, but Sarah completely ignored him.

"Are you ready to begin?"

One room over, in the bathroom, Kaden sat with the v-neck in her shirt pulled down, her lips poised to revive their subject in a different way. "I can't believe you're putting your job at the Purchase Crap place over torturing someone," she said, shaking her head. "I think you've changed, since the last time I saw you."

Casey shrugged. "Maybe. But if I can't hold down a job at the _Buy More, _Kaden, I can't have the advantage of being so close to Chuck. And he and Walker would be able to get away with even more shenanigans." He couldn't repress an eye roll.

Kaden smiled. "Are you speaking of things similar to the way they snuck off and robbed a house tonight, or more like they way they were looking at each other when they got back? Ah, young love." She sighed, and wrinkled her nose.

"First of all, you shouldn't say it like that- for god's sake, you're twenty-nine, not sixty. And to answer your question, it was a combination of the two. That could be even more dangerous." Kaden nodded in agreement, staring thoughtfully into the distance. "You know I hate it when you do that," Casey muttered. It seemed like there were things she was realizing, but had no intention of telling.

And what it seemed like to him was spot on. Kaden smiled again, and said, "I know."

Casey smirked back, and raised his eyebrows. "Well, are you gonna do your thing or not?" Kaden nodded, resumed a professional expression, and then began to lick the side of a random stranger's face with no reservations. Casey shook his head, in admiration and disbelief, as always. Only one room over, it sounded like another subject was enjoying a much more rude awakening.

--

Dante Moretti sputtered as a sudden shock of cold went through his body. "You," he hissed, seeing Bryce, and struggled desperately against the twine immobilizing him. All he remembered was seeing his men fall, and then this man's fist coming at him so hard, he feared he'd punch a hole in his head. Remembering the latter bit of information inspired a thudding headache to overtake his senses, and he thrashed about wildly, almost able to move the chair.

"Signor Moretti, we have enough evidence to prove you've been smuggling diamonds on the black market, and that's not what we're here to question you about." A blonde woman on his other side spoke, and caught his attention. Moretti couldn't help but to nod his head in greeting; a woman was in the room, and it didn't matter if she was about to shoot him- he wasn't planning on being impolite to her.

The words took a while to sink in. He'd been caught. His life, for the past few years, had been revealed, and he was sure he would be put away for it. However, if that wasn't what they were questioning him about…

"What do you want?" he choked out, his voice surprising him. Why was it so unsteady? His tongue flapped in his mouth on its own, and he bit on it to stop it.

"Who do you work for, Signor Moretti?" she asked, leaning in. He glanced down at her breasts, and cleared his throat, making a brave attempt.

"If you want me to talk, I'll talk when _he _leaves the room," Moretti announced, indicating his sore head as best as he could towards the man who had taken him down.

Sarah glanced at Bryce, amused as he exited the bedroom with as much dignity as he could. "Thank you," she mouthed, grimacing. "Now, shall we begin again?" she asked, stroking the side of his face with her fingertips. _Ew. Mole hair._

--

Felix Sommers felt a tongue on his cheek, and sensed a woman at his side. He paused a moment, wondering how she'd gotten there and where he was, but he was still reluctant to open his eyes, in case it was a dream. Until, of course, he noticed he couldn't move because he was bound.

His eyes fluttered open, and he began to struggle immediately. Slowly, the night came back to him- his assignment, the fight on the deck, and then a blue, metal shovel hurtling towards his head. He winced immediately, wondering if he had sustained any serious injuries. The back of his head and his shoulder were hurting pretty bad…

Suddenly, he came to, and saw the woman who had been running her mouth along his face. She sat on his lap, legs around his waist, and whispered, "Don't struggle. Just surrender." She leaned in and grabbed his mouth with hers, and he easily complied, forgetting about whatever the situation might be. That was, until he noticed the other man in the background, stealing a yawn.

Kaden noticed the mystery man tense underneath her, and grimaced. He opened his eyes, and she saw him stare at Casey in confusion, and then at her in a similar manner. "Where am I?" he asked, groggily, blinking almost endearingly. Almost.

"It doesn't matter where you are, it only matters, right now, where you were tonight," Kaden murmured into his ear, easily making the transition from pleasure to business. Not that she was getting any pleasure out of this- particularly this particular guy. He seemed easy, and easily distractible. The best thing she could say for him was that her job wouldn't be very hard. The thought crossed her mind of various diseases he could transmit to her, and she mentally ticked them off: mono, oral herpes, Epstein-Barr virus, Hepatitis B, and at worst, meningitis. _Occupational hazard, _she thought to herself, and shoved the thought from her mind. Hopefully, he wasn't as dirty as he looked.

"Is this some…unique form of interrogation?" he questioned, and Kaden backed away enough to look him in the eye, hoping she wasn't being too intimidating.

"Interrogation is such a harsh word, for a subject that doesn't need to be," she said, inching forward on his lap again. Yet she sensed discomfort, which had usually passed by now. "Something wrong?" Maybe the job would be harder than she had originally thought.

"That guy, over there, is kind of freaking me out," Felix admitted, inclining his head toward Casey.

"Don't worry- I'm leaving," Casey said before Kaden could even open her mouth. He backed away, palms up. "Don't mind me, really." He slammed the door behind him, and Kaden couldn't help smiling. She knew he had no interest in her, and yet he was already jealous of the attention she was giving someone else, even though it was strictly on a professional agenda. Well, to her, anyway.

"Now, where were we?" Kaden prodded, running her hand down the side of his face. _Yuck. Can you say chronic adult acne treatment?!_

Bryce gave Casey a nod as he exited the bathroom. "Looks like I wasn't the only one who was kicked out of interrogation," he muttered, and Casey smirked.

"Our girls are the best assets we have in that area," he said, shaking his head in pride. "Just take a moment, and listen…" He trailed off, and the two men cocked their heads to the side as quiet male groans and sounds of lips meeting filled the air, coming from both rooms. It was only interrupted by the occasional murmured question, and an indistinct response. Bryce looked simply disgusted, but Casey closed his eyes and moved his hands like he was conducting a symphony. "Let's check in on Chuck, shall we? If he's making half as much headway as those two, I'll be impressed."

--

If Chuck had one wish, it would be to close his eyes. Well, in retrospect, he figured it would actually be for Sarah to come out, scoop him up in her arms, and take him away from it all. Except his family. And Morgan, who was almost family. And he supposed he'd miss his Buy More buddies too, no matter how annoying they could be. Heck, he might even miss Casey. Admittedly, the two had occasionally bonded over their assignment together, even if their principles and moral values (or lack of) were a tad different.

However, closing his eyes would be so much simpler…

For the past half hour, he'd been listening to customers browse through the store, employees try to sell products, angry customers complain, angry employees try to convince them to steer clear of Large Mart, and most aggravatingly, his own voice babble on to people. Every time he heard himself, he'd jump a little. And once he realized he wasn't talking about anything important, he'd relax, but more tense than before.

He had to give it to Morgan- the guy had been very, _very _thorough. Only problem was, there wasn't anything the least bit condemning towards Casey, so far. Luckily, he'd only taped the past two days, so only 23 ½ hours left to go.

Chuck jumped a little when Bryce and Casey noiselessly sat on either side of him. He stopped the tape, and took off the headphones.

"Any luck?" Bryce asked, looking every bit as tired as Chuck felt.

"Nada," he admitted, shaking his head. "Right now, I'm hating Morgan more than I ever have before. I mean, what idiot just tapes random stuff? He was going for you, Casey, but instead I think he stuck too many near the customer service desk, and you…you don't work…work there too often," he said between yawns. And suddenly, without warning, Chuck Bartowski fell into a deep sleep.

"Will you do the honors?" Bryce asked Casey, headphones in his hands. "I pulled an all-nighter last night, and I don't think I'm quite up for it--"

"Don't be pitying yourself, Larkin," John Casey grunted. "You weren't the only one up all last night. And since I have tenure over you, I think I'll take a little break, get some R&R…" he laid back on the couch, kicked his feet up, and but his hands behind his head, smiling in satisfaction.

Larkin was nice to have around. Casey was getting tired of having no one to piss off, and still be professional. That ruled out Chuck, Walker, and anyone at the Buy More, which was pretty much everybody he knew on this assignment. Yes, although a major pain in the ass, Larkin could help relieve some of the pent-up anger Casey had been feeling by becoming his emotional (and physical) punching bag.

Bryce felt utterly defeated. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so weak, and being weak made him vulnerable in turn. He had turned the tapes back on, and was about to drift off, when both Sarah and Kaden burst through the doors in their rooms. At least they seemed halfway awake.

Casey's eyes snapped open, and he stood up, fully alert. "Well?"

Bryce snorted, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Go on back to sleep, old man, I'll handle this one." He assumed a rather stuck-up expression, and tilted his head upward.

Casey's eyes narrowed, and his fists clenched. He hadn't seen anyone so disrespectful since…Morgan. Morgan was just as bad as Bryce. "Who died and made you king?" he asked, getting up in Larkin's face. "This is team Chuck, and after Chuck comes Casey, since Chuck's temporarily…out of commission. You got that?" His lips tilted upward in a snarl, and Larkin flinched.

"That's sexist," Kaden commented, flopping down onto the couch. "I think I should be second-in-command, so the female and male members are of equal status."

"No!" everyone else shouted. Kaden rolled her eyes, and held up a hand.

"Whatever. Just making a stand for myself, but if all I'll get is rejection…"

"It didn't sound like you were getting too much rejection in the bathroom," Casey muttered, and then switched back to more serious topics. "What did you two find out?"

Sarah went first. She shrugged. "Moretti's a veteran Italian agent, but a current deusch bag. He's so far down in the scheme of things that he wasn't sure who he worked for. I slipped him some truth serum, just to ensure that. He hadn't planned on being in L.A., but he received contact from an old 'friend' who tipped him off about a local dealer who could threaten his business. Larkin, you intercepted him."

Bryce cringed. How distant could Sarah have gotten, that she'd only refer to him by his last name? Something was wrong, here, and he vowed to figure out just what it was.

"Kaden?" Casey prodded, and she sat up quickly.

She shook her head, as if she was clearing her mind. "Sorry- it's just that Sommers' story is pretty similar. Brazilian agent, still in action, who received vague orders from a vague employer about a vague mission he hadn't found about until he got here. They were to check out a house that could be in posession of classified information on a topic he couldn't know about, via audio tapes. Sounds kind of like what Moretti's deal was, hmm?" The four agents considered this, and wondered how it tied into what they were dealing with now.

Sarah absentmindedly ran her fingers through Chuck's hair, whose head was on her lap. She loved to watch him sleep- it was what she looked forward to most, whenever they had to "have intercourse" for their cover. He was so vulnerable- but then again, he always was. _Such an endearing quality_.

"I wanna know how his agency got tipped off about the tapes," Sarah stated, biting her lip. "I was sure we'd be the first to know, and anyone else who was informed sooner would have to be closer." Her face fell as she realized the weight of her words. There had been _way _too many close encounters, recently, and any more would end up inevitably with Chuck in an underground holding facility, no matter how many times they saved him. He could only be safe for so long; and he was barely safe, even at that.

"We should all get a little shut-eye," Kaden declared, yawning. Bryce was about to openly admit his love for her, when he remembered it wouldn't go over so well. "Oh- and Larkin, you can keep watch." Everyone silently agreed (except for Bryce, whose hands were around Kaden's neck until she shoved him off and threatened him pretty harshly), Bryce took a spot on the roof, and Sarah was left, thoughts buzzing around in her head way too much for her to sleep.

--

The rookie agent nervously walked up to the door, and checked the address for the third time. _4067 Brooklane Avenue, Apt. No. 12, Los Angeles, California 90011._ Yep, this was the place- a normal looking apartment in a nicely landscaped little complex. And yet, there was some evil that lurked behind that door which was, as had been revealed in his orders, potentially life threatening.

The package was time-sensitive, although only about eight inches long, nine inches in width, and maybe three deep. But whatever was inside it was important- too important to be mailed as usual. It had to be hand delivered, by a special operatives field agent.

Never had he regretted his title nor position more.

With a shaking hand, he reached up to ring the doorbell. The recipients would know something was up; nothing was delivered normally at five in the morning. An exhausted looking blonde woman opened up the door, just before he'd pressed the button, looking pissed that he was even in her presence. She grunted and rolled her eyes, signing the screen on his clipboard and grabbing the package before he could even say a word. He shook a little, wondering how she'd known he was there.

As soon as the door had closed, he pulled out his cell phone, and proudly dialed General Beckman's number. He waited impatiently to get through, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel of the "borrowed" UPS truck he'd taken from the warehouse.

"General? This is Agent Hyton, reporting from site of delivery. The package has been successfully transferred to the hands of the recipients. Over and out." He'd barely put his keys in the ignition, when he'd been mercilessly shot in the head.


	14. Small Packages

Casey turned to face three rather astonished faces, and shrugged. "What?"

Kaden rolled her eyes. "Never mind what I said before- you haven't changed a bit since I last saw you. Why couldn't you let me do it? It's been forever since I shot to kill!" She sulked a moment, with Casey grinning widely.

"Well, in retrospect, I suppose you haven't changed a bit, either."

"Enough, you two," Sarah interjected. She had to admit, she was amused, though. "A high security clearance level package was just delivered straight to us, and it's not gonna open itself. Bryce," she began, then corrected herself. "Larkin, you can take care of the body."

"No, Sarah," he hissed, and then turned to face everyone. "Listen up, because I'm only gonna say this once; I'm tired of being a second-rate idiot with a stamp on my head. If you want me as part of this team, you're gonna treat me like it. No more, 'Larkin, you're the lookout while the rest of us sleep,' or 'Larkin, leave while I properly interrogate someone,' or 'Larkin, take care of Casey's mess while we open up our present,' and I especially don't want any more 'Larkin, you're such an idiot asshole!' "

His three colleagues looked at him in curiosity, approval, and acceptance.

"About time you grew balls," Casey muttered, but giving him a nod of approval. "We won't open up the package until you come back, how's that?" Bryce acquiesced, knowing he wouldn't get much better than that at the moment. He left, jogging in the direction of the truck.

"Good job getting rid of him," Kaden admitted. "I'll have to play that card some time when he's on my last nerve. Don't worry- these kinds of occasions arise simply too often." She looked at Sarah, then Casey. "Now, the real question is: are we really gonna wait?"

Sarah sighed, and nodded. "Although he has been known to be an 'idiot asshole,' as he so gracefully put it, we do need him for his stability, and his knowledge of Fulcrum. If anyone showed up right now who we know we could trust, we would need them no matter who they were, just for an extra set of hands with guns." She smirked. "However, we can form all of our hypotheses without him."

Casey examined the package for a moment, using his shoe to flip it over. "No return address, no postage mark, no stamp. It obviously came straight from Headquarters." He watched Sarah's face for a reaction as he said calmly, "Can this wait until morning, or should we get Chuck now?"

Sarah's shoulders fell. "He needs rest. We all do. If this thing is time-sensitive, and a bomb is going to go off, it doesn't really matter if we open it now or three hours from now, right?" A pleading tone entered her voice, and although there were fatal flaws in her logic, Casey ignored them.

"You're right. We need to function as a team, and if Chuck is can't function properly, we have a strong disadvantage towards whatever's coming at us." He walked toward the door. "Get me up at eight, I've gotta be at the damn Buy More at eight thirty." He gave a low growl, and then disappeared into the apartment. He really wasn't meant to be in retail.

Sarah and Kaden followed suit, but while Kaden slept on Casey's kitchen countertop (the space was severely limited in a tight apartment with four agents, two criminals, Chuck, and a new body), Sarah retreated to Chuck's bedroom. Of course, that was only after she'd carried him in there, too. He didn't need to be waking up leaning against Casey's wall anymore, although by now, he might be used to it.

Chuck was obviously out for the night, so Sarah set the alarm, figuring the clock out in a little under five minutes. She was rather inept in the technological world- that was why she was lucky to have Chuck on her side.

For a while, she tossed, turned, shifted, burrowed, and curled herself up into a little ball. After she'd had enough, she raided Chuck's dresser until she found a low-dose sleeping pill that would only knock her out for a few hours. Briefly wondering why Chuck had them, she took one under the recommended dosage, and laid down again, much more relaxed this time. Her last thoughts before drifting off were of how much Chuck would freak out if he woke up in only his boxers.

--

Bryce examined the body of the dead NSA agent. Casey's aim was impeccable- his shots were infamously lethal. Except, of course, where Bryce was concerned. He still wondered, some days, how he had been saved. More often, he wondered if it had been for the best that he'd been saved.

Fulcrum definitely had power in areas that Bryce was far too ignorant to even know existed, but he even wondered sometimes just how deep the current of the enemy agency ran through "friendly" agencies. His job for the past three months had been grueling, and every lead he'd gotten had to be paid for dearly. And then, it was really the paranoia that got to him_. Everyone is the enemy. Trust no one. Fulcrum is everywhere._ He reflected on "Team Chuck," as they'd been referred to, and how trusting and naïve they could be. Sarah had to be slipping. Even the best could falter, on an assignment like theirs. Hell, it seemed that even Casey had a soft side- even if no one was quite sure what triggered it.

He shook off his thoughts, and dragged the body away under the cover of darkness. With the promise of sleep hanging over him, he got the job done fast, and collapsed on the kitchen floor. Moretti had the bedroom, Sommers had the bathroom, Casey was snoring in the living room, and although he would've preferred to be farther away from her, Bryce found himself next to Kaden- only a few feet below. He knew she knew he was there, and could only hope she wouldn't "accidentally" roll off the counter and onto him. It would be unprofessional, but they both knew each of them had been pretty unprofessional in the past.

Much like Sarah (but without the aid of sleeping pills), Bryce was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Which was actually a rug, but he wasn't that picky.

--

Director Graham sat at his desk, trying to uphold the appearance of calm. However, every time the barrel of the gun being held up to his skull made contact, it became harder and harder.

The fulcrum agent he'd originally trusted circled the room, but with her glock pointed at Graham. He feared if he moved an inch, she'd shoot. "I'll ask one more time; if the package was delivered, why haven't they opened it?"

"I'll answer one more time; I don't know. I haven't heard from the subjects in 38 hours." He gulped, and tried to distract the killer. "Why isn't Beckman being interrogated?"

"Oh, don't worry about her- I'm sure she's in a similar position at this time. In fact, you may be luckier than her."

Graham had thought that they needed him, but maybe that had only been a trap. After all, the rest of it had.

--

Chuck jumped when his alarm went off at eight, wondering when he'd fallen asleep, but more importantly, how he'd gotten into his bed. However, it didn't matter so much when he felt Sarah leaning into the crook of his back. Nothing mattered that much, then.

Practicing his slowly developing spy skills, he crept into his bathroom and took a shower. But the tip-toeing wasn't really necessary, as even after he'd used a hair dryer, stubbed his toe off the nightstand and fallen loudly to the ground, cursing, and knocked over an entire row of books that went crashing to the ground, Sarah still wasn't awake.

Even Ellie heard all the noise before her. She knocked once on his door, and walked in without waiting for a response. "Chuck, what was that- oh, I'm sorry, I'll leave," she quickly backed up, giving Chuck a knowing smile upon seeing the blond woman on the bed. "I didn't realize Sarah was here."

"Don't worry about it, Ellie, I think I'll let Sarah sleep in as late as she can today. There was an, ahem, emergency in her family, and uh, she didn't get home until late last night…" he lied, hating himself as the words automatically came out of his mouth.

Ellie kept her smile, but it faltered a little bit. "Sarah sure seems to have quite a few family emergencies, for not having much family in the area," she joked, but it fell flat and created an awkward silence. She blushed a little. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry--"

Chuck was shaking his head, and interrupted before she could pry any more. "I know, I know. It's just that her brother was passing through, and he got lost in the area, and she needed to help him." He hoped she wouldn't ask anything specific, such as, for starters, the name of Sarah's brother. He knew Sarah wouldn't like the excuse any more than Chuck liked lying to Ellie, but they would both simply have to work a little bit harder to make it all plausible.

"Only passing through?" Ellie asked, disappointed. "You know I'd like to meet some of my future sister-in-law's family," she joked, and Chuck avoided her eyes.

"Only passing through," he confirmed, not acknowledging the second part of her statement. He hoped she'd take the hint, because he really didn't want to have to lie any more. "Hey, I've gotta get going- and I should probably get Sarah up now, her shift begins pretty soon, and we've decided to carpool today."

Of course, the easiest way out of that subject would be avoiding it altogether.

Ellie nodded, wishing Chuck could still open up to her. Maybe it was natural that as he got his own life, own girl, they wouldn't be as close, but it was almost exaggerated. The love for her was still in his eyes, but so often, it was accompanied with an inexplicable sadness that he didn't want her to know about. It seemed that she could barely even know her brother anymore, because he loved her too much. Too much to be able to tell her what he wasn't telling her.

"All right, Chuck," she agreed, and pulled him in for a hug. "I just want you to know, I'll always be there for you, okay? Any time you feel like talking, just…" She sensed she was overstepping her limits, as he looked sad again. "Uh, go ahead and wake Sarah, now, I'm gonna go into work."

"See you when you get home," he whispered, but there was the undeniable doubt in his words. He hadn't said, _If I'm still here, that is, _but it didn't need to be said. It filled the silence without even making a sound, and clogged the air between them.

Chuck grabbed Sarah by the top of her arm, and whispered into her ear for a couple minutes, completely unaware that Ellie was still in the doorway, watching and enjoying the exchange. Sarah rolled over, turning to face him, and opened her sleepy blue eyes. Even from Ellie's view, she could see the love in them, and how it was returned by Chuck's gentle gestures. She made a mental note to quit interrogating Chuck about his girlfriend. All that mattered was that he was happy, and he seemed perfectly blissful with Sarah. There was no question about it; they were just simply right for each other. She left quietly, not wanting to disrupt her brother's life. Since he seemed to be content, why bother?

--

"What time's it?" Sarah slurred, sitting up. The last night came back to her slowly- meeting Kaden, recruiting Kaden, finding Bryce, recruiting Bryce, meeting at Casey's, robbing Morgan's, seducing Moretti, and then finally, receiving the package.

All that happened in one night?

Chuck smiled gently at her and twirled her hair through his fingers before he glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand. "A couple minutes after eight o'clock. We'll leave at eight thirty, but--"

"You only gave me a half hour to get ready?!" Sarah screeched, jumping out of the bed. "Chuck, how do you expect me to be able to dress in thirty minutes?" She immediately began pacing, looking around for anything she could use in Chuck's room. There was definitely no time for her to get back to the hotel. "Do you even keep soap in this place?" she asked, a sneering edge to her voice.

Chuck frowned. This wasn't the way he'd pictured their morning to go. "Sorry, Sarah- you're welcome to use anything of Ellie's, and I think her beauty supplies are pretty extensive." He gave her a smile, trying to calm her nerves. "Not that you even need them; you're beautiful from the moment you wake up in the morning."

The attempt on Chuck's part was almost sweet enough to melt Sarah from her core. However, she had an advantage- he didn't have any idea that she was not a morning person. "Stop feeding me lines, Chuck. I thought you were better than that- how many women have you said that to? After you'd crawled into bed with them," she muttered, and instantly regretted it.

Her last comment struck home, even if he wasn't sure he was meant to hear it. "Me? Crawl into bed with you? Now, my memories of last night are pretty unclear, but I know that that was not what happened," Chuck said angrily, his voice rising an octave higher than Sarah thought hers could go. "I'm pretty sure you're the guilty one in that area, missy." He felt a wave of realization. "That's what this is about, isn't it? You're feeling guilty you showed any feelings towards me, and now, you're taking it out on me. I'm really suffering in this situation no matter what, huh, Sarah? Sarah?"

Well, Chuck was right in one area; she was feeling guilty now. Not guilty about giving him a little hint about how she felt towards him, but rather insulting him, and making him assume things that weren't true. She thought, as anguished tears rolled down her cheeks, that she wanted so badly to say those things weren't true, because they weren't.

"Just let me get dressed," she whispered weakly, and shook Chuck's hand off of hers. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but it was what she had to do. She sniffled as she watched him walk slowly to the door, his hand pausing on the handle. He turned, and she saw the conflict in his eyes that matched what was going on in her own.

And she wished he would ignore her, and come back to hug her, kiss her, comfort her. But he, too, did the right thing- which was, ironically, the wrong thing- and left for Casey's.

--

Kaden woke up to the sun streaming through Casey's windows, even behind her closed eyes. She yawned, sat up to stretch, and banged her head off the cabinet located directly above her spot on the countertop. _Damn. _She could tell already that today wouldn't be pleasant. However, things were looking up just a little as she realized Bryce Larkin was sleeping a few feet below her, completely vulnerable.

Automatically, her hand fell on the gun hidden in her waistband, even when she slept. She looked at it longingly for a moment, and then removed her hand with regret. _It would only take one movement…_ But she thought of Walker's words last night, and how they needed the son of a bitch. _Damn, _she thought again, and leapt off the counter, landing maybe an inch from Bryce's head. Her landing was so soft he didn't wake up, but that was a different story when she stepped on the fingers of his outstretched hand.

He yowled, and sat up only to bang his head off of the edge of the counter that Kaden had been sitting on. Bryce examined his red fingers, and after dispelling the hope that the pain had only been a dream, determined that there weren't any broken bones. He looked around confusedly, rubbing his head and wondering what had caused the injury to his now throbbing fingers, but narrowed his eyes when he saw the back of a slim figure drift into the living room. _Kaden._

With many regrets, he decided to let it drop, mostly because it would only embarrass him further to be caught so off guard. However, he was still trying to build trust in his "teammates," even if they weren't exactly working towards the same ideal as he.

Casey snickered when he saw Kaden and Larkin enter his living room with identical red marks on their foreheads. "You two should warn me before the next boxing match you take up; I'll need to have my camera ready." Kaden snorted, and glanced at Bryce calculatingly.

"Yeah, so you can capture my kicking his sorry ass forever on film." The look she gave him was obviously suggesting a challenge, but Bryce turned it down flat.

He put his hands out in a gesture of peace. "We should concentrate on the package," he offered, and then muttered under his breath, "Not that I wouldn't mind giving you a reason not to mess with me."

"Rain check, then," Kaden proposed, smiling brightly.

Chuck traipsed in, bearing a grim expression. When Casey asked where Sarah was, it only darkened further. "She's getting ready, she'll be out in a minute." He made an attempt to smile. "So, did I miss anything last night?"

The three agents sitting before him glanced at each other meaningfully, and Casey cleared his throat. Chuck's face grew more worried. "Actually, uh, Chuck, we got a package," he said, trying to gauge his asset's reaction.

"A, um, bad package, Casey?" Chuck started, then babbled anxiously. "Well, it can't be that bad, since we haven't blown up or inhaled anything toxic yet, but I'm sure there are plenty of other bad things that could be inside it. Like snakes! Who likes snakes? No one really likes snakes…" he trailed off, wishing someone would stop him.

Kaden inched closer to him on the couch. "Well, we were kind of waiting for you to tell us, Chuck," she said, smiling sadly.

Chuck drew in a breath, then forced it out quickly. "Am I…am I still useful, at all, to you guys?" he began, but held up a hand when all three stood up and started to reassure him. "I mean, I'm Chuck Bartowski, Mr. Intersect, right? And when the Intersect isn't really working, that leaves me as…" he took a breath, and looked each one of them in the eye. "Chuck. Just Chuck, ordinary citizen who has enough trouble just staying out of the way. Maybe I should just leave."

As he got up, he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. "Absolutely freaking not, Chuck. If you take another step toward that door, I'll have to physically stop you, and that could get messy fast." He turned to see Kaden, reassuringly livid, barely a step behind him.

To his slight surprise, Bryce came up, and put his hand on his other shoulder. "I don't know where you're getting that impression, Chuck, but I know that you've always been useful in anything you've done. Not having unlimited access to classified government files doesn't mean you mean any less to us." _Even though it might to the government. _Bryce decided to leave that part out.

"Chuck, I don't know what the hell you think you're doing, but you're not going anywhere." Casey considered that about as much of a supportive comment as many would ever get from him. Chuck did, too, and felt the sudden urge to hug the usually emotionally constipated NSA agent.

Casey's breathing quickened as his asset's arms enclosed him. _What the hell?_ "Whatever you think you're doing, you should stop. NOW." Chuck backed away slowly, palms up, grinning like an idiot.

"Now, what's this about a package?"

Sarah chose that moment to enter the scene. "Chuck, I'm so sorry," she said quickly, not quite sure if she could still get the words out if she waited long enough. And for one long, terrible moment, he paused…

Chuck considered her for a moment, and then nodded. "All right," was all he said, but it was enough for both of them. Sarah let out a breath she'd been holding in, and found the courage to smile.

Casey brought the "package" out into the living room. "Enough emotional crap, let's get to business," he growled, back to his usual self. Sarah plus Chuck being all gooey usually irritated it.

"Can I unwrap it?" Chuck asked warily, and at Sarah's nod, he carefully removed all the tape from the brown box, took off the standard wrapping paper on the outside, and the five government employees stared at the DVD player inside.

True to form, Kaden smirked. "What does this button do?" she asked, her finger approaching the power button at a fast rate. Bryce slapped her hand.

"How much of an idiot are you?" he asked, staring at her in shock.

"Relax, Jumpy, I wasn't actually gonna push it. But really, Chuck, what does it do?"

Casey rolled his eyes. "You don't need a Nerd Herd member to tell you it turns this puppy on."

Chuck confirmed Casey's answer. "Nobody push it, though, I wanna extract the disc first," he said, hitting an eject button. A small DVD was driven out, and Chuck cleaned it off with his shirt. "Casey, you mind if I use your computer?"

The NSA agent grimaced. "Not unless Dante Moretti does- but he shouldn't be up yet, after all the knock-out drugs we put in his system." Casey opened the door to his bedroom with lightning speed, gun pointed at the motionless figure in the corner. "All clear."

"The DVD player could be anything from what it looks like to a bomb mechanism, at worst,"

Chuck explained, while Bryce stared at him intently. He had to remember some of this from school, even if it was an entire life ago. "If I pop it in the computer, we might have to go through some encryption codes and wrapping, but it's safer than if we use what they've provided." He muttered under his breath, "Unless it blows up the computer."

He inserted the disc, and a password box immediately came up. Chuck's eyes glazed over, and he went into flash mode. Not entirely sure what he was doing, while everyone watched in horror, his fingers flew over the keys while his access was granted over and over and over.

Casey grunted in approval when a media player box finally came up, and the play button was highlighted and pulsing. Bryce scratched his head. He'd been lost since the third firewall blocker box came up, but he had to admit- Chuck was amazing. He'd never seen him in action before, and the what he did was almost an art. Well, every bit an art as what he was required to do.

Chuck took a deep breath. "All right, I just wanna say that, whatever's on this tape, we're all--" Casey clapped his hand over Chuck's mouth. Enough was enough.

"Larkin, play the damn video."

A/N: I know this chapter didn't really make a lot of new developments in the plot, but you've gotta have some fluff to feed the soul. Besides, wasn't it worth it to have Chuck hug Casey?


	15. Last Briefing

General Beckman, Director Graham, and an unfamiliar figure appeared on the screen. "Hello, Major Casey, Agent Walker, and Chuck," Beckman began, stony faced. "This is your last mission briefing, together, Agents, but it will not be a complicated one." Chuck gulped. Not good.

"A short time after Chuck received the contents in the email Agent Larkin had sent him, Fulcrum began making a beta-intersect, with sources of information that will not be discussed here. They also found a ways to dispatch Intel to a specific location. Project Sapphire, as it is called, was created by Dr. Vernon." Beckman acknowledged the unfamiliar man with a nod, and he smiled satirically.

Director Graham cleared his throat. "Project Sapphire has been in application for three days. It renders the information in the human Intersect useless, and Chuck will be brought in to headquarters. It is not only too dangerous for him to be out in the open, because his identity will be known by all Fulcrum agents, but we will also need to run some tests. If the human Intersect is still accessible after the signals created by Project Sapphire, he will be kept in a secure location. If not, he is no longer of use to us."

Chuck choked on air, and Sarah grabbed his hand so tightly it hurt. Everyone stared at the screen in horror, but no one had the courage to press the "Pause" button, and stop the flow of thought-scattering information. Chuck's heart was thudding so quickly in his rib cage that it made his entire chest hurt, and he tried to process all the information.

The heavy air was filled with a slightly nasal, grating voice which belonged to Dr. Vernon. "As for Agents Casey and Walker, your fate is less complex. There are several agents in the L.A. area who are stationed at secure locations, but have had no briefing yet. The order will go out today to terminate each of you, with no questions asked. Chuck is no longer on your hands, and anyone with extensive knowledge of the Intersect, such as yourselves, will need to be cleaned up." He leaned in towards the camera. "In other words, you know too much to live."

Sarah saw black spots in her vision. This wasn't the way she'd ever pictured her retirement- maybe handing in a resignation, then going home to be able to enjoy the rest of her life without interruptions her job would create. Days of lying in bed until noon, renting movies at night, ordering pizza, not having to routinely sharpen her knives…but no. Instead, she'd simply die.

Casey had steeled himself to show no emotion, as he'd seen it coming. He'd gotten past the stage Walker was at, at the moment, and began planning how they'd dodge another bullet. Just another mission, right? Hell, even the General had said so.

"The contact sent two nights ago was sent to bug your apartment, Major," Beckman continued, showing a twinge of sadness? Regret? "Anything you've said since then has been recorded. Now, your orders: stay where you are. The DVD player you're using right now was activated upon pressing the power switch. An alarm has been sent, and the orders have given. However, you have another choice; if you stay where you are now, the device has a small bomb which was also activated upon pressing the power button. It's only enough to leave a houseful of charred remains, and is untraceable. The only option you don't have is to run."

Graham finished the briefing, with an emotionless expression. "Goodbye, Agents. Chuck, we'll see you sooner than you may have thought." The screen went black, and Casey's computer shut down.

"Well now, it could be worse," Kaden said, breaking the silence. "I could've pressed the power button, and then we'd be knee deep in even more shit."

Sarah's fingers had tightened mercilessly on Chuck's hand. He could feel the circulation being cut off, but had bigger things to worry about at the moment, over losing a limb. Not even a full limb, a part of a limb. Oh, god, he was starting to think like Casey.

"I'm sure they'll send out reinforcements in the next twenty-four hours," Bryce began slowly, trying to remain calm. "That might be enough time for us to drop off the grid. Everybody, pack your bags and get ready to move." He took a deep breath. "We'll need to go deep."

Everyone automatically stood up, except for Sarah. Bryce glanced at her, concerned. It was unlike her to resist the temptation of jumping into action in these life-or-death situation. "Bryce, is it really worth it?" Sarah asked, her blue eyes stained with tears. "We can't hide forever, and as roughly numbers one and two on the wanted list, we can't even hide for very long."

"Long enough to hatch a plan," Kaden interjected, then stood up and clapped her hands. "All right, people, we've got two top NSA agents, two top CIA agents, and Chuck, who's a little harder to explain. All star team, right? If we all stick to our strengths, we'll get out of this alive. With relative losses." She hit a button on the wall that Chuck had never noticed before, and as the bookcase began to move outward, she whispered, "Gotcha."

Chuck's eyes were wide as saucers as a glass-topped table moved out, with more destructive weapons than he thought he'd ever seen before located inside. "Casey? Where'd, um, where'd all of these come from?" An entire hidden arsenal? He was almost impressed.

"Start grabbing some guns, Bartowski," Casey growled, already loading up a duffel bag with lethal torture tools. He considered each one with admiration, before loading them into the bag. "That is, if you know what's good for you." He looked like a little kid on Christmas.

Bryce stood up. "I'm going to go empty out my bank account, so we can pay for any necessities with cash," he said, walking towards the door, keys in hand. "They could trace our credit cards to our location, and we'd be done for. Anyone else? We don't know how long we'll need to hide."

Chuck turned out his pockets, blushing lightly. "Well, uh, mine wouldn't be too much of a help to be honest, here, guys. Buy More doesn't pay its employees too well."

"I'll come," Kaden volunteered, and Bryce cocked his head to the side. It was rare when she'd even consider spending any one-on-one time with him, when there wasn't a potentially fatal agenda. She regarded his surprise with a snort. "Well, it's not so you'll have company, just so you know- I got my annual paycheck last month, and I'm pretty comfy right now."

They left quickly, and Chuck glanced at his watch. "Well, Casey, are you going to bother returning to the Buy More? I think I should say my respective goodbyes- an emergency vacation, maybe? Sarah, just so you know, your grandmother's spastic colon has taken a turn for the worst. And apparently, it's hereditary."

Sarah wiped the last remaining tear from the corner of her eye, and smiled for the first time in ten minutes. "Thanks for letting me know- but you should probably tell Ellie and Devon, too. I'll come with you, if you need me…"

He squeezed her hand, and smiled down at her. "Of course I need you. Now conjure up some more of those magic tears, and I'll conjure up a plot that will, hopefully, explain everything that they'll need to know. Well, as always, not everything."

--

The car was silent for a few minutes before Bryce finally brought up a common subject. "I can't believe we were stationed with the eventual order of killing Sarah and Casey."

Kaden gave him a sarcastic smile, but it was as friendly of a smile as she thought she ever would give him. "Well, that's the way it always is, isn't it? Once you've thought you had the higher powers figured out, they throw something totally unexpected into your path, like murdering your best friend. Or lover, in your situation. Former lover. Do you find that that situation arises often?"

Bryce raised an eyebrow. "Which part of which situation are we talking about? The killing, the killing of a lover, or running into former lovers?"

"Actually, I was referring to your continual seduction of female partners. Or at the least, sexual involvement. Because I know that there have definitely been two times." She kept her eyes on the road, but some acid crept back into her voice.

Shaking his head, Bryce let out a low laugh. "You're really gonna pin that one on me? Because the way I remember it, you were the one who came on to me." And the way he remembered it, the two weeks of fiery passion by night and blushing cheeks by day had been, well, intense. And gratifying. At least, that was until the day he'd made one of those mistakes you regret all of your life.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, my taste has changed drastically. Just don't get any ideas. That ship sailed the day I shot you." She paused, and coughed for effect. "Sixteen times."

"Oh, believe me, I was counting, too. Sorry, I don't remember- what was the significance of that number?" he prodded, knowing he was on unstable ground. However, it was worth it to push it.

"Well, other than the number of shots I had left, it also represented the number of years it would take me to ever put this behind me. And if my math is correct- you tell me, you were the engineer major in college- you've still got twelve to go, before I can possibly forgive you." She looked mildly amused, even though the topic had previously been totally off-limits, with a sort of a shoot-you-sixteen-more-times-if-you-even-mention-it aura surrounding it.

"Huh. Well, if one year counted for four years, I'd be done with my penance now."

"All right, now you're overstepping your limits, Larkin. Let's stay professional this time- because if you give me any more reasons not to trust you, I'll add another sixteen years onto your tab." She parked along the sidewalk, and snatched Bryce's ATM card out of his hand. "Let's see just how much you're making now, hmm?"

--

Ellie and Devon had initially been rather irritated at being called out of work and back home, but within five minutes, they were hugging Sarah and reassuring her.

"It's rare when a case like hers gets so out of control, but I understand your need to be there," Ellie said, enveloping her brother's girlfriend in a great big hug. "It's too bad you'll be in Vancouver, but we'll try to stay in touch, okay?" She then turned to Chuck, and smiled with pride. "Chuck, I'm so proud of you. I just want to let you know, I think you're making the right choice by going with Sarah. It's great that you're so…there, in her time of need."

Chuck's mind reeled. He wished Sarah's grandmother was really dying, and that was the only reason he'd be going away. He didn't even know where. "Ellie, you know I probably won't be able to contact you for a while. There's no phone service, internet service, and I'm not even sure if there's a post office. I promise, I'll come right back home whenever this is all over, okay? In the mean time, you can expect some postcards."

He lead a tearful Sarah towards the door after embracing Ellie one last time, knowing that it might be the last time. "Our flight's in a couple hours, so I'm gonna let Big Mike and the crew know I'll be gone. And Ellie?" His sister turned to see true anguish in his eyes. "I love you."

She rolled her eyes. "Chuck, you're just going on a little trip. It's not like we're never going to see each other again, right?" He nodded unconvincingly, and Ellie's mind went back to his early years, when he'd been deathly afraid of anything airplane related. "And I promise you, your plane will not crash, okay? If it does, you have my permission to haunt me forever."

Chuck smiled sadly, and waved goodbye. He couldn't trust himself to say any more. If only Ellie knew how deadly serious the situation was...but it would only hurt her. He gave himself a mental slap for even thinking about compromising himself to his sister. She could be tortured, injured, hurt. Mentally and physically, even. At least he had Sarah...

Sarah was having trouble coping with the situation. It wasn't the first time she'd had to fall off the grid, or go deep undercover, but the circumstances were just so different. For once, it wasn't a few people that she was hiding from- it was really the world that she was hiding from. The Director's contacts probably reached at least halfway around the world. At least she had Chuck...

They turned to each other, and read each others' thoughts in their eyes. Sharing a miserable smile, they walked back to Sarah's Porsche, knowing that that may have been the last time they'd ever be in the Bartowski apartment.

Casey was already in the car, waiting. He seemed much more enthused about the "assignment," as he'd already began to refer to it as. "Well? You ready?" He packed one last flame thrower into the glove compartment. At the reluctant nods of his team members, he grinned sarcastically. "Let's rock 'n roll."

--

After making several large transactions, Kaden smirked. "I've still got more than you." Bryce rolled his eyes, and threw his hands up in the air.

"Don't you think there are larger things we should be worrying about, right now? Anyway, it's only because you got your annual check a month earlier than me. If I'm around to receive it, I'll get a large boost in my account." He muttered the last part. She had an unfair advantage.

"Someone's just jealous, I think."

Bryce rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, well someone's had a long day, and has a long day ahead of him. Let's go, before anyone notices we just pulled half a million out of an ATM."

"Someone must be scared, too. Who's gonna stop us?" Kaden began strolling calmly down the street in her stilettos, still going at a faster pace than Bryce. She spread out several hundred dollar bills, and used them to fan her face.

"Kaden, stop it. You're going to attract attention."

"Sometimes, a little attention is all you need." Bryce began to shake his head, not sure what his ex-partner was planning on doing. When she started to back down a dark alley, still waving the bills seductively, he put his foot down.

"Kaden, come back here right now. Someone's gonna--"

Bryce didn't even need to say it. A man leapt out at Kaden, and Bryce took three quick steps forward. However, before he could reach her, Kaden already had the man unconscious, twisting his wrist back and slamming him down from over her head.

She smiled darkly. "You know you want to compliment me, but you also want to come up here and strangle me for endangering both of us, and for being so damn good at what I do."

He rolled his eyes. "Well then, you should've been a damn psychologist, because you're right on the mark. But what exactly are you planning on doing with the unconscious street man?" He laughed coldly. "Rob him?"

She pulled out a drivers license and a social security card, both obviously stolen. "Only robbing the robber, Bryce, no need to freak at me. Here, catch." She tossed him the fake identities. "That might come in handy." She checked her watch, with Bryce still fuming. Yes, it would certainly help. Yes, she was damn good at her job. Yes, it was totally unethical, immoral, and wrong on so many levels…and yes, that was exactly the sort of thing that had attracted him to her in the first place. But that didn't mean she should get the satisfaction of knowing that he felt that way.

It was just too bad that she was about four steps ahead of him.

"Let's head out- they must be waiting for us." Wordless, Bryce followed her, saluting the robber on the ground. It was an unlucky day he'd come across Kaden. Of course, Bryce had been saying the same thing about himself since the day he'd first seen her.

--

General Beckman paced around her office, with her speeding heartbeat as the only sign of her fear. The gun pressed against her back was cold, even through her jacket.

"This is your last chance to answer my question, Beckman," a masked man snarled from across the room. He, too, was pointing his gun at her. There was little time to admire it, but it was a nice, compact little pistol. "Why hasn't the alarm been set off?"

She shook her head, keeping it up high in the air. "The DVD player isn't the problem; it's our subjects. The device has been tested, but the subjects are in a position to create problems."

The man across the room narrowed his eyes, but lowered his gun, indicating for his partners stationed around the round room to do so also. "What kind of problems?"

The response had bought her a little time, but it wouldn't be much. If the situation didn't improve drastically in the next few hours, Beckman would consider herself a dead woman walking. Well, more realistically, she'd be a dead woman couped up in a little cell, right alongside Graham.

It wasn't often that she felt she could admit it, but they'd been idiots to trust Fulcrum.

--

"So this is sort of like one big, crazy, undercover road trip, huh?" Chuck asked, nudging Sarah, trying to alleviate the tension in the car. She smiled sadly, but couldn't think of anything comforting or funny to say. In that way, she felt that she'd failed him, and it only made her more miserable. "So, what kind of car songs do secret agents sing?"

There weren't any words spoken, but Chuck could hear the safety being pulled out of three guns in the car. "All right then, no songs. Games? Magic tricks?"

"I know a magic trick that'll make you disappear," Casey growled, and Chuck stiffened. Apparently, no sense of humor, either. Car trips had been more fun as a kid.

Kaden patted his knee. "It's okay, Chuck. Casey didn't pack his anger-control pills, but we'll make sure to buy some more when we find a place to stay." She paused, thoughtfully. "You know, I've always wanted to see the Grand Canyon, or the Arches National Park. Maybe we'll make a side trip."

Casey gave Kaden a look through the rear view mirror that shut her up, but only with an eye roll. He wasn't on any medication, but he would mourn the loss of his bonsai trees. They were just so…peaceful.

Bryce was sitting in the passenger seat of the Porsche, watching the car lap up the black road that lay before them. His job wouldn't be much different than it had been, ever since he'd died. In fact, if anything, it had improved- he now had a small group of people whom he could trust with his life. He suspected that even Kaden would do the right thing- although his sixteen year sentence wasn't quite up.

Although a little squished, Chuck sat between Sarah and Kaden in the back seat. He propped his feet against the headrest, and figured the seating situation could be much worse- Sarah's larger-than-average trunk space was filled with the hairy Italian man, the equally hairy but leaner Brazilian man, and the serial killer with more charges on his police record than on his bank account. They would be conveniently "dropped off" on the way to their destination. And Chuck was squeezed between two lovely ladies, in a car full of friends. Well, a friend, a quote-unquote girlfriend, a former friend, and someone who didn't want to blow his brains out yet, and that was about the highest honor he'd allow anyone.

Yes, yes. This would be about the most interesting "road trip" he'd been on for a while.

A/N: Okay, first of all, sorry for the slight delay. Next, I know it's totally unrealistic to pull five hundred grand out of an ATM, but it sounded way cooler than a couple thousand. And I know there wasn't a lot of Charah chemistry in this chapter, but never fear, it'll come. I'm on vacation where internet service isn't guaranteed for a few weeks, but I'll be writing on Word. If there isn't any internet, there will be several posts when I return home- I promise.

Thanks, all faithful reviewers. You rock my world.


	16. Road Trip

General Beckman and Director Graham were led, handcuffed, to a decrepit building in the middle of nowhere. Judging by the size, it appeared to be a large warehouse, with letters faded by the sun running across the top. The Director felt a bead of sweat run down his nose and near his lip. They had to be somewhere in the Sonoran desert, judging by the barren landscape and the intense heat.

Despite the heat, he found the chill to shiver. Three of his best guards had been taken out by the Fulcrum agent, and he suspected the damage went much further than that. There was a small crew of nine or ten, all armed, leading them towards the warehouse. It must be some kind of headquarters.

Inside, it was stuffy, humid, dusty, and hard to breathe. The two government officials were led to two maximum security cells, and each had a guard located just inside.

Graham cleared his throat. It had been a long, long time since he'd been in an active situation like this, but not long enough for him to forget how to work with it. "Well, I must say, I'm rather honored," he muttered, barely loud enough for the guard to hear. He raised his eyebrows, and fidgeted a little, twisting his hands around in his bindings. There wasn't much room, but with a little luck…

The guard, Agent Matthews, looked away from his prisoner warily. He had been given strict orders to watch this subject with his life; literally. Because if this man escaped, his execution would be inevitable. But he wasn't allowed to kill him, either. Apparently, the director of the CIA could supply plenty of information that was at too high of a clearance to be known by hardly anyone else, information that could be very valuable and useful to help their organization. All they needed was the human Intersect, and they'd be totally unstoppable. (A/N: Time for an evil laugh. Muahahaha.)

"Ten agents and a maximum security prison, where I'm the only inhabitant? I mean, I obviously knew I was important, but this is pretty special," Graham sighed, and looked at the guard expectantly. He was well-trained, but they would all crack. He just needed to get inside his head. "So, how much do they pay you to work here? Can't be the most interesting job in the world, nor rewarding…"

In two seconds and three long strides, the guard's face was right next to Graham's. "I'm not allowed to kill you, but I can incapacitate you if you give me trouble," he growled, and Graham smiled in pleasure. Maybe he wasn't such a tough nut to crack. "I live for our cause. That's all you need to know." He shoved Graham's stool with a thwack, and he slammed into the wall, falling on his side, helplessly. It hurt, but what was that phrase again? Oh, yeah. Occupational hazard.

"Cause? What cause? If you call whatever it is you do a cause, then you might as well call the foreign terrorists' agendas noble," he said, with as much dignity as he could muster up.

His words really hit the mark, that time. "What are you gonna do? You can't risk killing me, and I might be more fragile than you know." He sighed, the guard staring at him with murder written in his eyes. "All that strength, and nothing to do with it. You wanna do it? Do it now, I know you want to," he whispered, watching as his captor struggled internally, wanting more than anything to end his infuriating prisoner than anything else. The only question was, would he risk his own job for it?

And judging by the fury in his steps as he closed in on Graham, the answer was a yes.

Sadly for him, he didn't know who he was dealing with- not just another rich guy in a sports jacket. "Gotcha," Graham murmured, as he threw his leg out to trip the guard. The guard landed with a crack, and Graham flung himself on top of him, with all his strength. He flipped, and found a knife with his bound hands.

"Now, you know I'm in a position to do some damage," he said softly, feeling the guard's ragged breathing. "You will tell me the seven digit code to exit this room, or I will kill you, right here. And it will be more painful and slow than anything you can imagine from your superiors- death by the knife is much more excruciating than by any quick shooting." He cut his bindings, and continued even softer. "I could offer you a better life- but you'd turn it down, to be with your people who don't even care about you."

The guard choked on his sob of anger and fear. With the last breath he thought he had, he whispered, "2292008," and collapsed.

Graham snorted, pulling three guns and a few knives from his pockets. "Today's date? How déclassé," he scoffed, but punched in the code to free himself, the iron door opening with a gratifying creak. The halls were surprisingly abandoned, and the guards were easily avoided. Within three minutes, he was outside of the prison, and had caught up with Beckman.

She raised an eyebrow. "What took you so long?"

--

Bryce stifled a snort as he regarded the three figures in the back of the car. Sarah was dead to the world, with her head on Chuck's lap. After all, if she knew her head was on Chuck's lap, she probably wouldn't be able to sleep- nothing against Chuck, but he really wasn't her type. Bryce would know. Chuck was also out, with his head tilted back, snoring lightly. His nostrils would flare every few seconds, and then blow a wisp of Sarah's hair every time he exhaled. Kaden was the one where he couldn't tell if she was really asleep- but she was putting on a pretty good act if she wasn't. The side of her face was up against the window, but her legs were laid across Chuck seductively, and her shirt had been hiked up enough to show her perfect abs. Chuck was certainly in an enviable position.

"So, Casey, you have any idea where we're going, yet?" he asked nonchalantly, leaning his seat back. "I just assumed you had somewhere in mind, since you took up the role of driver so willingly."

The older man shrugged, and cracked his knuckles. "Well, I couldn't have Chuck or Kaden drive, because they'd inevitably do something stupid, and I couldn't have Sarah drive, because she's got too much on her mind," he explained, keeping his eyes on the road.

"And what about me?" he asked, not quite sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

He sighed, and turned to look at Bryce. "Larkin, you popped up out of the blue on an unassigned mission, with the eventual order of killing Walker and I. Don't interrupt me, I know you wouldn't have, had you known the situation. But after spending a few months labeled as rogue, and a few more labeled as dead, it's gonna take a while for me to trust you."

"Coming from the man who was the reason I was labeled as dead," Bryce muttered, looking away from Casey. He just contributed to the list of reasons why Bryce hated his life.

Casey rolled his eyes. "No need to be a drama queen, Larkin. I hoped you'd do the professional thing and put it behind you, but I don't need an analyst to tell me you've still got a stick up your ass about it." He smirked, one corner of his mouth tilting up. "You seem to have let Kaden off considerably lighter, and she used fifteen more bullets than I did."

In the passenger seat, Bryce glared at Casey, but he unfortunately had chosen to keep his eyes on the road. "So, where are we?" he asked icily, the tendons in his neck popping out in anger. It had been an unprofessional move to bring up the Kaden situation, and by the way he was smirking, Bryce guessed that Casey knew about his former romantic (well, more realistically, sexual) involvement with Kaden. With an emphasis on former.

"Sonoran desert," he replied shortly, still smirking sarcastically. It set Bryce's nerves on fire.

Bryce cocked his head. "Are you sure that's a good decision, Major Casey?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from his words.

Casey nodded confidently, only aggravating Bryce further. "Just passing through, Larkin. Then, we'll move into a larger city, and hopefully get lost in the mix. Shouldn't be too hard," he muttered, and then looked appraisingly at Bryce. "You sure you don't wanna join the shut-eye club? Could be a long drive, and I don't want the next shift."

Smiling at Casey's semi-apology, Bryce gave him a nod of approval. "Thanks for the offer, Casey, but I think I'll take in the sights for now," he said, leaning back.

"Then, maybe, you can take in the sights in silence," Casey suggested with a grunt. "I won't be sleeping, but it would make my job a lot more pleasant if I didn't have to listen to you."

Bryce kept smiling, but closed his eyes. "I love you, too, Casey."

Chuck awoke with a start, saw Sarah and Kaden stretched out on either side of him, and calmed down considerably. "Hey, Casey- you wanna stop at a McDonald's, or something? A strawberry shake sounds nice, with maybe some chicken McNuggets," he suggested, yawning.

He looked on in confusion as Casey pulled over on the side of the dirt road, and turned around in his seat. "We are not going to stop at McDonald's," he growled, and then signaled for Bryce to open up the glove compartment. Passing up the fire thrower, his hand found the roll of duct tape. "Always come prepared." He smirked, a sadistic edge to his features.

Chuck paled considerably, and held his hands up in protest. "Aw, buddy, buddy, you really wouldn't wanna do that, now would you? I mean, if you--" He was interrupted by the duct tape's union with his mouth. He struggled for a moment, but then shook his head, and acquiesced.

"That was your cue to shut up, Bartowski," Casey hissed, and then turned back around, sighing. "Sometimes, the boy just can't take a hint." Adding further evidence to Casey's point, Chuck began squealing and pointing in the sky loud enough to wake the two sleeping women on either side of him.

"What the--" Casey began, but then heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter flying low overhead. "--hell?" He pulled over on the side of the road, and got out of the car for a closer look. And the look was pretty close, considering the helicopter was flying about twenty feet above their heads.

Sarah groggily opened and closed her eyes repeatedly. Where was she? Why was she in a car? What was the hell was that noise, and why was it so loud? She figured the last question was the most pressing, since it was the issue preventing her from falling asleep. However, once she came to the conclusion the others had already made, Sarah had no intention of falling back asleep. Especially after she saw the CIA logo on the side- a blue circle with an eagle peering imperviously over a white flag with a red starburst. Normally, it would almost be a home-y sight, or at least one that would remind her of her purpose.

Now, it only struck terror into her heart.

They had been found.

"Casey, start the car and drive as fast as you can. I don't care where, I don't care how, just drive," Sarah panted, looking her partner in the eye. And right on cue, he started the Porsche, and the little orange arrow on the dashboard flew to the opposite side in a record amount of time.

All five members of the car were slammed against the backs of their seats, and some swearing could be heard from the trunk as the knock-out drugs wore off and the three bodies crashed against the outer wall of the enlarged storage compartment. Casey, for one, seemed to take pleasure out of this-- it wasn't every day you got to test a sports car to its speed limits. Chuck wasn't so happy, since he'd forgotten to put on his seatbelt.

"Is this really necessary?" he choked after painfully removing the duct tape, head tilting backwards in an uncomfortable angle. Chuck made a mental promise to click-it-or-ticket every time he got in a car in the future. That is, if he survived Casey's little joy-ride. Oh, and don't forget the added danger of being possibly executed by federal agencies, too.

Sarah looked panicky, but obviously not at the car's speed. "Yes," she answered simply, and Chuck believed her. Only Casey would put him through this kind of torture if it was unnecessary; Sarah wasn't half as freakishly sadistic.

He pouted anyway, though. "But look! They aren't even following us!" he wheezed, head thudding off the too-low headrest. This could cause a headache even worse than one of his flashes, if he lived to feel it. He reasoned that would be the upside of dying would be missing the monster headache that would undoubtedly follow, but somehow, living still came out on top.

Four pairs of eyes squinted into the sky, and noted that Chuck was right. "Probably some trick," Casey grumbled, but his resolve was weakened.

"Well, now that we're behind the danger…I think we should follow it." This time, the four pairs of eyes questioned Kaden's sanity. She shrugged nonchalantly. "A CIA chopper in the middle of the Sonoran? Tell me you aren't curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat," Bryce said accusingly.

"Oh, well, lucky me. I'm not a cat." She squinted at Bryce. "Are you _calling_ me a cat?"

"I'm going to call you a moron for taking the cliché so seriously, but I'm not calling you a cat."

Any humor on Kaden's face fell off. "You sure you wanna do that?" she questioned, eyes flat and menacing. A chill ran down Chuck's spine, and he made a mental note to avoid any situation where he could possibly be in Bryce's position.

Rather than admit his defeat, Bryce rolled his eyes and turned around. Sure, he was scared stiff at even the sound of Kaden's voice, but there was no way he'd ever let her know that (it was too bad for him she already did). And when the day did come, it wouldn't be in front of Sarah or Casey. Or Chuck, for that matter. "Well, you're in the driver's seat, Casey," he announced. "It's a rather executive decision; are you gonna follow it?"

"You really have to ask that?" Casey muttered dryly, still comfortably speeding away in the opposite direction. "Kaden's not famous for her intelligence, or her instincts. Or her self-preservation, but I left that off the list because that item's _totally_ non-existent."

She leaned in towards him (a feat Chuck marveled at, unable to hold his head upright), and stage-whispered in his ear, "Is wittle Casey scawed?"

"Don't be an idiot!" He composed his face. "I'm only looking out for everyone else in this car," he lied curtly. Although Casey was, as any trained spy, taught to be excellent at fibbing, that was just a little bit too much of a stretch.

Everyone stared at him for a few seconds, and then burst out laughing. Casey sucked in a deep breath. He closed his eyes and pictured his bonsai trees, gently bending in the wind. A cool breeze ran through their leaves, lifting up individual boughs at a time…_they _didn't have uniquely annoying personalities, so incredibly _aggravating _that it had taken him all this time to find a force, between the four of them, that was more powerful than anything he'd ever known.

_Calm, Casey. Calm._

"Are there…_people _out there?" Sarah asked incredulously, squinting in the distance. Sure enough, two figures were visible against the unending backdrop of sand and sky. They seemed to be wearing dark, heavy clothing- odd for the middle of a desert- but not much else could be distinguished from the distance.

"Didn't anyone have the foresight to pack a pair of binoculars?" Bryce grumbled, digging through the glove compartment. Flame thrower, sure. Extensive supply of explosives and weaponry? Given. But a simple pair of binoculars? Well, who are we kidding?

Chuck cocked his head to the side (which he had the ability to, now, since Casey had graciously slowed down). "Shouldn't we, you know, help the two stranded people, out in the middle of nowhere? I mean, in their shoes, I would be pretty mad if I saw a car drive by and offer no form of rescue. Well, maybe not if it was filled with a crowd like you guys, but--" he broke off when Casey's hand twitched toward the roll of duct tape. "Shutting up."

Sarah moved in her seat so she could look him in the eye. "Chuck, when you're going deep undercover, you've gotta look at everything like a trap. They might not be strangers at all- they could be people waiting to apprehend us." A touch of pity leaked through her serious gaze. It was times like these when she remembered how inexperienced Chuck was, and how he'd been thrown into all this…

And it was times like these that made her lose her focus.

"Look at everything like a trap. Gotcha." Chuck daydreamed a moment, wondering about how everyone from the clerk at Walmart to the soccer mom pushing her baby's stroller on the curb could be a threat. And then he wondered if that was how Sarah and Casey- and Kaden and Bryce, for that matter- had been taught to look at every situation they ever faced. If that was how they went through life. So, while he was deep in his wondering, he missed the revelations going on between the people beside him.

"Is that…"

"No. It couldn't be."

"It _has _to be!"

"You kidding? They never go anywhere without bodyguards!"

"Yeah, well, things aren't looking so great for them, right now. Doesn't seem like your average walk in the park, with temperatures over ninety and full sun. I think we can allow special assumptions for special circumstances."

"Beckman _can't _be that short."

"Wow, she looks a lot bigger on screen!"

"That isn't her! It can't be!"

"Oh, so it's just coincidence that two government officials that hold a high resemblance to Director Graham and the General are strutting through the dunes in the Sonoran?"

"And then there was that helicopter…correction, is that helicopter. I'll be deaf in ten minutes if this keeps up."

"Does it really matter? I mean, they just sent out an execution order for two of us, here, and they won't be too happy with Bryce or me when they find out we've been consorting with the people they just stamped the scarlet letter on. No offense, but you guys are kind of taboo…which is the main reason why I'm still here."

"Kaden…not helping."

"She has a point, though."

"Astonishing."

"Shut up, Bryce."

"Cut it, guys. Do you think they saw us?"

"Of course they saw us! We're the Porsche in the middle of the freakin' desert! Anyone within a mile has seen us- not that there is anyone else within a mile."

"I meant, did they recognize us, _Kaden."_

"Oh."

"Are these tinted windows, Sarah?"

"Only a little. They've also got my license plate number, which they may have pulled up to see if they could identify the car."

"Are they…walking towards us?"

"Stop the car, Casey."

"You kidding?!"

"STOP THE CAR!" three voices echoed in unison. Casey threw his hands up in a gesture of peace, and pulled the key out of the ignition. Chuck came out of his reverie, just in time to see the two people who had ultimately ruled his life- and ruined it- walking alone in the desert. _Funny. I must be dreaming. _And then he fainted dead away.

"Fine," Casey grumbled. "Just make sure you're armed." He pulled out three guns and set the flame thrower on Bryce's lap. At Bryce's horrified stare, he shrugged. "You know, just in case."

"Sure, just in case they've got a few bazookas on hand, we might need to mount a counter-attack," Bryce muttered sarcastically, turning the flame thrower around carefully in his hands. "Why the hell do we even have this thing?"

Sarah patted Chuck's hand. "Chuck? Chuck? Wake up, Chuck. Okay, you really need to wake up- oh my god, I think he's unconscious." She exhaled loudly, and put his head in her lap. Then she remembered her superiors were approaching, and dropped it onto his chest as if his curls had burned her. That wouldn't make the right first impression for a meeting that already had a death sentence- literally. What were they _doing?_

"Are these windows bullet-proof?" Kaden asked absent-mindedly, rapping on the glass with her knuckles. She seemed to be the only one whose nerves weren't on fire- she was well known for keeping her head in situations where everyone else lost theirs. Of course, the downside was that she often _didn't _keep her head in situations that really weren't that extreme.

"I think so," Sarah murmured, biting her lip. She ran a hand through her hair, and a pang of hunger hit her stomach. She almost laughed, lips twitching up for an instant into an awkward smile. Somehow, human needs prevailed over even the most deadly of situations. It seemed so ridiculous…or maybe she was just approaching hysteria.

"Hmph. Well, that might be tested today," Casey growled, still pulling weapons out of the car's artillery and occasionally tossing them at people. No one dared to stop him- he was halfway between a serial killer and a kid opening his presents on Christmas morning. "Everyone have at least three guns?"

Bryce nodded. "Yeah, for two subjects. Honestly, what are you anticipating, Casey? They don't even look armed."

"Looks can be deceiving. If they've got four guns apiece, we may run into some problems. Did anyone think to give Chuck a gun?"

"He's unconscious." Kaden waved his limp hand for him as proof.

Casey nodded in approval. "Thank god." Sarah snorted, but didn't protest. It would be useless; Casey was in auto-pilot, and that meant that if anyone argued with him, he might bite their head off- or more realistically, shoot them in the foot.

Squinting, Kaden peered out Sarah's window. "About twenty yards now, Casey. What's the plan?" Everyone leaned in, and Casey shifted around a little.

"Uhh…"

"Oh, god. Here we go. Do you remember what happened the last time we didn't have a plan?" Kaden hissed, and instantly, Bryce and Sarah perked up to hear what happened, especially when Casey paled noticeably.

"You don't need to remind me of Cambridge, Kaden," Casey hedged, looking a bit worried. "That'll never happen again. And it won't be brought up again, either- it was a learning experience, nothing else." Kaden would have none of it.

"I'll tell you all later when our superiors aren't standing five yards away- believe me, it's a tale for the ages," she stage whispered to Sarah, whose face lit up with a hint of a smile. However, it was gone as soon as she spotted Graham's expression.

Although he had just given pretty much everyone in the world permission to kill her, he had been her mentor and someone she'd looked up to for years- for guidance, or sometimes just for a figure that was always rock solid in a world of change, bombs, killers, et cetera. And so, when she saw his face, it hit her like a mental slap. He seemed so degraded, like someone had suddenly taken away anything he'd ever had. And the worst part was, she'd hoped to feel fury- all-consuming rage- and all she had was pity. For him.

"You mind giving us a ride?" he asked, voice more wobbly than she'd ever heard it. It tore at her soul. Still, it was better than looking him in the eyes.

"Isn't that your helicopter?" Casey questioned, a crease forming between his eyebrows. He fought internally- being the unofficial decision-maker put the pressure on him to make an "executive decision," as Bryce had put it.

"We can't know who's operating the helicopter; they could be corrupt," Beckman stated, haughtiness still staining her tone, despite her rather haggard appearance and the position she was in. "We know we can trust you." Her voice broke on the last word, but she covered it up with a cough.

"Well…" Casey began, unsure of how to end his sentence. Somehow, their appearance plus the fact they were asking for help from those they'd formerly ordered to kill plus the mention of someone corrupt trying to reach them made him want to trust them. And then there was the notion that couldn't be ignored that they were telling the truth. "We haven't got a lot of room, but I'm sure we could make space for two more." He unlocked the doors cautiously, and everyone watched as their two intimidating superiors awkwardly crawled into the backseat. Kaden sat on the floor at Sarah's feet, and Sarah awkwardly pulled Chuck's limp form onto her lap.

Beckman's eyes widened at the sight of the multiple weapons, and Casey's cheeks were stained with red. He coughed into the back of his hand, using the motion to conceal any of the artillery he had in his hands that they hadn't seen yet.

_Hmph, _Kaden thought sullenly. _This is really gonna put an abrupt end to conversation_.

A/N: Sorry for the delay; I hope you missed me and were absolutely dying to know what happened next. A lot of things will clear up in the next chapter- I promise- so please hold on tight and keep reviewing. Or start reviewing, that's excellent, too.

By the way, I think Graham makes an excellent field agent. I'm willing to have a heated discussion with anyone who disagrees, so feel free to PM. And we will never know what Beckman did to get out of her situation so lightning fast...I hope that keeps you up at night, wondering. I will be, too, if that makes you feel better.


	17. Covering It All Up

The car was close to silent as it made its way into Arizona. Casey's eyes were plastered on the road, like he was afraid to look away. And in some ways, that was true. He was afraid to face the woman who had just sentenced him to death. He was afraid to see that things had gotten much worse. And he was afraid that, if he locked eyes with her, Kaden would say something incredibly stupid.

Of course, that was inevitable.

But he could tell by the way her lips twitched and turned up into sarcastic smiles, as he watched her out of his peripheral vision, that she was waiting for the slightest signal to let hell crawl out of her mouth. When Kaden was incensed, there was nothing stopping her. From the reports of some reliable people, they had actually seen her tongue forked as she lashed out at them.

So instead, he settled for counting the number of posts they had passed since the last intersection, ten miles ago, to keep his eyes occupied. Of course, even that couldn't keep her for very long.

She cleared her throat loudly, and Casey resisted the urge to smack his forehead off of the steering wheel. He thought about issuing a warning, but that had never worked in the past. "So, General, how's the weather around here, this time of year?" she said conversationally. "Of course, unless you'd rather just discuss how many people you've laid the execution order on today. Your choice," she spat, and shot a burning glare in Beckman's direction. Their eyes met, both fuming in their own right, and Beckman paused before she replied.

"I don't believe you have much room to accuse, Agent Kaden," she retorted haughtily, nose still stuck in the air. "Unless I misunderstood, you had orders to stay in the Southern Californian region, and monitor the area." She turned her head away from Kaden in a dismissive gesture you usually only caught on TV.

"With all due respect- not much," Kaden muttered under her breath, "Unless_ I_ misunderstood, I was not on duty, and I _had _no orders. But I'm not so sure about what you have clearance to do." Her stare was still fixed on her superior's uncomfortable, unwilling face.

"I'm not so sure what you mean, Kaden," Beckman sniffed, but her dignity wasn't quite intact. It was hard to be dignified while stuffed between another government employee on your level and an agent with an asset on her lap. However, somehow, although she was at the feet of said agent and asset, Kaden was doing a better job.

"What I meant was, how can you hang around with your little Fulcrum buddies, like Mr. Dr. Vernon, and then give two of your best employees the death penalty, for nothing but doing their job?" she said conversationally, and pretended to examine her nails. Maybe, from the lack of eye contact, she'd found the statement that she finally found was a little overdone.

So did Beckman. Utterly flabbergasted, she opened and closed her mouth several times, making her physical similarities to a bird even more noticeable. Finally, probably to avoid further humiliation, the kind Director laid a hand on her arm. It wasn't a gentle gesture; more of a, Jesus-Christ-Get-A-Hold-Of-Yourself gesture. Or, at least, that's what Kaden observed.

"Trusting Fulcrum was a mistake," he admitted gravely, and his cool, emotionless gaze sent more shivers down Sarah's spine than an angry Beckman on any day. "But what they offered us in exchange was more than we could've ever dreamed of attaining, from them."

It was clear that he had no intention of revealing what that was, but the four active agents in the car (and probably Chuck, too, had he regained consciousness) had something different in mind.

"What could be more important than two- maybe three- lives? Maybe tens of others in the process? Director, my life?"

"How could you ever put so much trust in the hands of Fulcrum?! Have you learned nothing after years and years and years of dealing with them, and their little earth-shattering, world-altering plots?"

"The Intersect was supposed to be a top priority- what happened? Where could you have gotten all the information for a beta so quickly?"

"As God as my witness, I will sing campy road trip songs for the rest of this ride, until you all are begging me to blow holes in your skulls. Would you subject everyone to that, General? Director?"

"Enough, Kaden."

"My sincere apologies, Casey."

Sarah stared at Graham with a film of tears clouding her vision. Surely she couldn't be seeing remorse? Some trick of the light, maybe. The dry air must be messing with her brain's ability to interpret emotions. However, she wasn't so defiant when she could hear it clearly in his voice; that is, unless her ears were screwed up, too.

"What happened with the Fulcrum agency became much to hard to control. Walker and Casey, your lives were not originally in the balance. We trusted them because we felt there was no alternative, and their agency is growing in numbers every day. I know you would never have stood for it, Larkin, but you are biased in that area. Yes, don't argue," he commanded sternly when Bryce's mouth flew open and his hands angrily shot up into the air. "What they did to your life was…unforgivable, but others were not as affected. Therefore, others are willing to give them a second chance. What was supposed to be their last chance." He abruptly shut his mouth, like he'd already said too much.

"And the Beta-Intersect?" Casey murmured quietly, but his words still cut through the thick silence.

"That is information I cannot divulge," Graham said, tight-lipped.

"I disagree," Kaden slurred. "Why can't you 'divulge' it? Isn't our clearance high enough for you? I think we have a right to know." She paused, and then corrected, "Well, Sarah and Casey have a right to know. And Chuck. And for all the hell they've put us through, I'd say Bryce and me, too."

The General turned to his right side. "Speaking of Mr. Bartowski," he began cautiously, just as Chuck's head lolled to the side. "Is he…all right?"

"Better than most of us," Bryce muttered blackly.

"He's just out for a while," Kaden said, ridiculously cheerful considering the situation. "It's essentially your fault he passed out; apparently, it was a little too much to see the two of you strolling across the dunes toward our car. You have to admit, a minor mental snap's inevitable, especially for someone like him, eh?" She patted his foot sympathetically, and Sarah stroked his face, in a protective way.

"If there's anything to be said, Chuck should be awake to hear it," Beckman piped up, for the first time since her heated banter with Kaden. After staring at Chuck for one long moment, all four agents jumped furiously into action.

"C'mon, Sarah, wake him up!"

"What, Bryce, does it look like I'm not trying?!"

"Anybody got a bucket of water? Ice water? What, we've got a freakin' flame thrower, I thought that maybe someone would've had the brains to pack a cooler!"

"We don't need water- there are several instruments here that would bring Bartowski back down to earth with much less--"

"Casey!"

"Just concentrate on driving, okay, Case? Cool it."

"I'm with whatever plan doesn't have Chuck mutilated beyond recognition in the process, but I think a few minor losses would be acceptable enough, considering what we're waiting to gain, here."

"Come to think of it, Bryce might have a point. Whoa. I'm siding with Bryce. Didn't think that day would ever come to be."

"No! Absolutely not! We are _not_ harming Chuck in the process of waking him up. Discussion over."

"And what gives you authority to say that, _Sarah_?"

"As Chuck's legally appointed handler, _Bryce."_

"So what am I, chopped liver?"

"Casey, just-- just shut up, okay? Besides, I'm the closest person to Chuck in this car, and I'm sure that he'd want me to be the one to take charge of this kind of situation."

"_You're _the closest to Chuck, Sarah? How long have you even known him? I knew him for all of the four years of college we spent as best friends--"

"Yeah, well, three years, Bryce. Because, in case you hadn't recalled, you actually had him expelled from the school, slept with his girlfriend, and utterly ruined the rest of his life."

"Okay, 'ruined' is an exaggeration. Plus, now he's got you guys, and who'd ever wanna ask for more, huh? The surly neighbor, the resident slut, the fake girlfriend…wow, who could ever wish for more?"

"Surly?"

"_Slut?"_

"_FAKE GIRLFRIEND?!"_ Sarah practically screamed, and her blood pressure rose an inch off the charts. How _dare_ he make those assumptions! Besides, Chuck was the only one allowed to call her that. "I love Chuck more than you ever have, and more than you will ever know! If you knew the whole st--" She cut off abruptly, and blushed crimson when she remembered who she was in the car with. "I can explain," she began hastily, but suddenly, everyone's attention was turned to Chuck, as he shifted his body so he could be closer against Sarah. "Chuck?" she asked tentatively, mostly so her voice can be the first one he hears whenever he'd come to.

"Sa-sa-sarah," he stuttered lazily, his tongue laying heavily on the bottom of his mouth. His face was split with a familiar ear-to-ear grin.

She couldn't help but to smile back brightly. "Chuck, we need you to wake up. The General and Director want to tell us something, okay? But they want to make sure you're listening first." Maybe it wasn't necessary to talk to him like a first grader, but maybe it was just the protective instincts kicking in. Chuck only nodded dumbly, and Sarah frowned lightly. "He seems a little disoriented."

Kaden tapped her on the shoulder. "Yeah, well, we might have bigger problems on our hands now," she began, throwing a glance towards Bryce. He sat motionless, frozen with an expression of mingled disbelief, fury, and confusion. "Doesn't seem that your declaration of love pleased one member of the car too much."

"It was not a declaration of love," Sarah snapped, and straightened her shoulders. Might as well start lying now, so getting the story right later wouldn't be as hard.

"Yeah, well, whatever you wanna call it. But it seems it was just enough send Larkin into shock, here." She hummed a little, and waved her hand in front of his eyes, back and forth. "See? Nothing." She punched him in the shoulder repeatedly, in varying degrees of intensity, and when she got bored with that, drew a gun from who knows where, and held it up to his forehead. "Actually, continue. This is pretty entertaining- I'll be fine for a few hours, as long as this keeps up. This is way better than 'I Spy' road games."

Casey frowned. "What are we gonna tell him when the bruises start to show?"

"Oh, I don't know, you're creative. Tell him his door fell off and he rolled out of the car, or something. You know, he's in a rather nice spot for being nearly comatose, and I don't think anyone the least bit undeserving should get the privilege of having a seat…anybody wanna help me strap this big guy to the roof?"

--

It didn't take much to get the Buy More employees all stirred up.

If Big Mike had wanted to step out of his office long enough to see what was going on the store, Mr. Morgan Grimes might've spent his final day as a sales clerk at that store. Because, actually, none of salesmen or the herders were in the store, per se. On the contrary, the parking lot was seeing a lot of action.

Morgan was seated on a regal throne of four refrigerator boxes, while the rest of the employees stared up at him in veneration. He snapped his fingers once, and Anna, at his side, fanned him with a palm frond.

"Ah, yes, I remember it all," he intoned, staring into space mystically. "It was roughly twelve last night, when I was playing Call of Duty. I'd gotten to level four, and all of a sudden, I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. I grabbed my Hishiatsu sword off of my dresser- where I keep it always, just for protection- and snuck down the hallway. Sure enough, two ninjaa were crawling across my ceiling, searching for…the tapes."

Jeff scratched his head. "What tapes?"

"Do not interrupt the master of the ninjaa, Jeff--"

Lester rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Jeff, don't you remember those bugs we put around the Buy More, to see if that creepy guy--"

"Casey," Anna corrected.

"Yeah, to see if Casey was up to something."

"And it turns out he was," Morgan interrupted. All eyes turned to him again. "Even though I crept almost silently into the hall, somehow, the ninjaa saw me. There were two--one was a lanky guy, didn't seem that muscular, although he was clearly a master in fighting, and the other was a gorgeous ninja chick. Geez, those curves…" he trailed off, drooling slightly. Anna slapped him, and he came back down from space.

"Right. So I had to fight them." Morgan paused dramatically, admiring his throne while he still could.

"And?" Jeff prodded. "Did you defeat them?"

"Jeff, no one can defeat a ninja except for other ninjaa," Lester scoffed.

"Yeah, but Morgan's been going around calling himself the Ninjaa Master all day!" Jeff said, throwing his hands up in the air. "You can't be a Ninjaa Master unless you defeat the Ninjaa!" Everybody looked at Morgan, who suddenly seemed uncomfortable, and wouldn't meet anyone's eyes."

"Well, Morgan? Did you or did you not beat the ninjaa?" Anna asked.

"I held my own for a while," he mumbled into his shirt. Gaining confidence, he almost looked up as he said, "And I did stab one of them, but his secret ninja healing powers took care of it. And look what they did to me!" He pulled his collar down, and revealed the small welt on his neck where the needle had gone in. "After they left, I don't remember a thing. Probably some ninja mind tampering, eh? But I do remember one last thing about last night," he said, shaking his head.

"That Anna came over afterward, and you two had some fun?" Lester suggested, and he and Jeff high-fived.

"C'mon, Lester! That would've been the first thing I would've told you if it had happened!" Morgan sighed, and hung his head. "They got the tapes, man. They got them."

"So let me get this straight," Lester said, shaking his head. "You not only didn't defeat the ninjaa, but also let them harm you and take the tapes? Morgan, you know that equipment was expensive! And you also know I paid for it right out of my pocket! Or, rather, my next two paychecks," Lester muttered.

"Okay, you guys are missing the point," Morgan argued. "Casey is a shady guy, and we were right all along! He probably had some guys with connections, and got them to hook him up with some people, who hooked him up with ninjaa! And you know what's even stranger?"

"What," Jeff asked, unenthused.

"Chuck disappeared today."

"What?!" all three exclaimed in shock.

"He supposedly went away with Sarah to take care of her great aunt somebody or something, but I'm not buying it. And because he's with Sarah, that means one of two things."

"They're a threesome?"

"Jeff, you should just shut up sometimes. No, it either means he's taken her hostage, too, or she's in with Casey and she's only been pretending to have a relationship with Chuck."

"I knew he could never score with someone that hot!" Lester exclaimed.

Anna scratched her chin. "Yeah, actually, they both showed up at, like, exactly the same time, didn't they?"

Jeff's eyes were as wide as saucers. "I bet she was the she-ninja!"

"Well, whatever's going on, we only know one thing," Morgan proclaimed, "We've gotta save Chuck."

--

Bryce woke up, gasping, as a bucket of full of cold water hit his head. He whipped around to see Kaden, shrugging. His eyes narrowed, and his blood pressure shot through the roof.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed angrily. "You're supposed to douse the person in cold water, not throw the fucking bucket at them!"

"Oops," Kaden sighed. "Silly me. Although, I do find my way more effective." He angrily walked towards her, fists clenched, but she interrupted before he could say anything. "I'll beat you up later, Larkin, but there are more important things to be handled now--like, oh, I don't know, National Security?" She dragged him back into the car, and he acquiesced, still scowling, because he wasn't sure he was stronger than her. In fact, he wasn't sure at all.

"The girl can get a job done," Casey said approvingly, nodding at Kaden. She smiled seductively, and sat back down at Sarah and Chuck's feet. Chuck was still a little foggy, but Sarah had brought him up to speed, more or less. Although, he still couldn't remember what had made him faint, initially.

"Well, we're all here, we're all conscious, and we're all sober," Kaden stated to the General and Director. "You can't really ask much more than that, though, I'm warning you."

Director Graham ignored her comment, and took a deep breath. "You all know Fulcrum has been a major threat to the agency for years--"

"No shit," Kaden muttered.

Graham gave her a black look. "As I was saying, Fulcrum is a major obstacle in our line of defense in witness protection, asset manipulation--" Chuck frowned "--and all the major areas of security, national and international. It has been a top priority of the Agency for years to knock them down and keep them from getting back up on their feet. Thus said, you can imagine how beneficial it would be for the entire organization to simply disappear into the shadows. Forever.

"They offered us the chance of a lifetime, for one price. I'm sure you can guess what it is."

"No," Chuck blurted out, forehead creased in confusion. "What?" he defended when everyone looked at him incredulously. "Didn't anyone else not follow that? I mean, I'm sorry no one's kept me updated on the latest in agency news," he babbled, "Not that anyone ever would, because the only thing I'm ever concerned with is the stupid--"

"The Intersect, Chuck," Sarah interrupted before he could prattle any more. "They want you."

"Oh," he mouthed, face devoid of any emotion. "Oh, yes, that, well…I am pretty important in these parts, huh? A price tag for the disappearance of an entire agency… Just what did they want me for?" he gulped.

The Director scratched his chin. "Well, in all reality, they wanted to suck all the information out of you, and then get rid of you. Permanently. Perhaps they had other plans, though," he quickly added, seeing Chuck's expression. "However, they didn't stop there. Suddenly, their demands were growing more and more, until they wanted everyone who had ever come in contact with you enough to know your secret. What the general and I didn't realize was that, ultimately, they wanted us, too."

"What about the Beta-Intersect?" Casey asked. "That's gotta be tied into all this freaky shit, too."

"Major Casey!" Beckman squawked, eyes bulging.

"My apologies, Ma'am," he muttered, head down. Apparently, formality hadn't been forgotten.

"You are correct, Casey," Graham admitted. "Fulcrum also offered the Beta-Intersect, in place of Chuck, and also as a reward for our temporary partnership."

Sarah squinted. "So in the beginning, it seemed like the perfect deal, didn't it? One little suddenly replaceable asset would be sacrificed, while the agency could stand to gain the disappearance of an enemy that had plagued them for years…but why did you send all those random assassins?"

Beckman and Graham looked at each other and frowned. "Assassins?"

"You know, Edward Blonning; Leopold Reptard--"

"The bastard robbing your little bearded friend's--"

"Felix Sommers."

"Well, excuse me, Mr. Super Computer."

Graham leaned forward. "We have never sent out any of those men," he whispered, half to himself. Suddenly, something occurred to him, as Chuck saw the flash of realization on his face. "Did you actually ask any of these men who they were working for--in person?" he asked tentatively.

Casey frowned. "No, they were all unconscious before we could ask them anything--except for Sommers, who really didn't know anything. And Chuck didn't flash on him."

"So you relied on Chuck's flashes for all of your information?" Beckman scoffed. Chuck glared, but slowly pieced it together.

"The flashes--"

"Were unreliable--"

"Operation Sapphire--"

"Dr. Vernon--"

"Bastard!"

"Major Casey!"

"Sorry, Ma'am."

Kaden slowly turned to face her superior, and look her right in her beady eyes. "So you never sent out any of those people who were supposed to kill us?" Beckman shook her head, eyeing Kaden a little suspiciously. "No; it must have been Fulcrum. Uh, Agent Kaden, are you..." Kaden threw her arms around the old crow, and nearly squeezed the life out of her. Beckman's eyes popped out, and one of them started twitching.

"I knew it," Kaden said fervently. "I knew you wouldn't want to off me! Even when I got that execution notice that I shredded four years ago that had your signature on it after that particularly bad mission in Uruguay--not my finest moment, perhaps, but still, no reason to pull the trigger, honestly…" Kaden trailed off, slowly releasing Beckman, while mumbling about how she had still always been a bitch to her, anyway.

"So," Bryce began, stretching out his arms, "I only have one question; how did I go from being comfortable in my front seat to being beat with a bucket of water on the side of the road by a vengeful whore?"

"I'll show you vengeful," Kaden murmured rebelliously.

"Don't you remember Sarah's little declaration of love?" Casey asked incredulously. For a moment, Bryce stared back blankly.

"To whom?" he asked, brow creased. All the other members of the car glanced at each other meaningfully.

"Not a word, Casey," Sarah hissed. "Not a word."

And for once, he listened to her.

A/N: I'm baaaaaaack.... tell me how much you love me.


	18. Of Phantom Jeeps and Hummers

"Car keys?"

"Check."

"GPS system we stole?"

"Check."

"Margarita mix?"

"Check."

"Diapers?"

Morgan howled with laughter in response.

Lester shouted, face purple, "It's a necessity, Morgan! Some of us aren't so comfortable in boxers_ or_ briefs."

"Yeah, so you have to resort to Pampers," Morgan snickered.

"My tender bottom needs a lot of extra protection," Lester defended irritably. "Next item."

Morgan flipped through the clipboard. "No, that's it. Huh…doesn't take much to start an off-roads cross-country search expedition, does it?" He scratched his beard thoughtfully. "What about protection?"

"I haven't used one in so long I can't remember how they work," Jeff stated bluntly.

Lester and Morgan turned to each other. "Was he talking about guns or condoms?" Morgan asked quietly.

"Both," Jeff responded with a burp.

"Control yourself, Jeffrey," Lester scolded. "That was…disgusting."

Jeff popped open the trunk. "Where'd we put the Margarita mix again?"

--

It wasn't long before six of the seven members of the car were asleep again. Casey was sick of driving, and it was getting dark. He reached backwards into the back seat, and shook Sarah vigorously by her collar. She blinked groggily, and stretched as she yawned, almost whacking a sleeping Beckman in the face.

"What," she barked, her voice hoarse.

"Time for your driving shift," Casey grumbled, testy after his own over-extended driving period. Although she gave him a murderous glare, Sarah acquiesced and climbed into the driver's seat, letting Chuck's head fall to her seat rather brutally.

Casey eyed the seat with disgust. "Where am I supposed to sit? If Chuck's head so much as gets near my lap, so help me god, I will--"

"Just figure something out, all right?" she groaned irritably. "And don't bitch to me about it, either." Despite having to share a seat with Chuck, Casey was out within thirty seconds from the moment Sarah keyed the ignition. She sighed, and wondered how she'd stay awake. There were several mind games she could try, all of which she'd learned in training. Suddenly, there was a very practical and necessary application for them.

She decided to count the signs on the side of the road, but that didn't occupy her mind much past 37. Then, she began thinking about Chuck, her mental screensaver. Graham and Beckman hadn't had much to say about when she'd thoughtlessly admitted to having feelings for Chuck. If she was lucky, they'd write it up as a slip of the tongue, and give her a slap on the wrist. If not--

Headlights flashed in the Porsche's direction. Sarah stopped the car, rubbed her eyes, and stared with shock as a giant black jeep drove around her in a circle, and then continued in the opposite direction of the Porsche. It took about sixteen seconds for her brain to process the event, and then she shook Casey awake.

"What the hell?" he groaned, and leaned forward until Sarah's face was about two millimeters from his own. "Listen, Walker, I don't care if you need advice on where to go, what to do, just let me--"

"I saw a car," she whispered breathlessly. "I saw a _car."_

"For god's sake, we're in the middle of a desert at midnight, Sarah."

"But I saw a car. No--it was a black jeep. Big black jeep." She made a gesture with her hands to indicate the size before realizing how ridiculous she was acting. Casey opened his mouth, but she interrupted. "You know what? You're right. Trick of the light, or something. I'll keep driving and try not to hallucinate or fall asleep, okay? And I won't bother you again." Casey nodded, smiling obnoxiously, and he was out again before she could tell him to sleep well.

After cracking her neck twice and mentally listing the seven most common lethal poisons and their antidotes (to make sure she was functionally properly in the mental region), Sarah started the car again and got back on the road. She tried not to think about Chuck, but while she was trying not to think about Chuck, she wasn't paying much attention to the road. It wasn't long before two dots of light appeared behind her. She gasped, and turned her brights off. Maybe it was just some lost tourist, but they were supposed to be deep undercover. She squinted at the lights, coming closer and closer. However, they didn't seem to be slowing down at all; if anything, they were getting faster…

Sarah grasped the wheel and swerved off the road moments before the front wheels of the jeep would've been in the back seat of her Porsche. In steering the car so vigorously, it tilted to the side, upsetting several of the sleeping passengers in the back. Casey was the first one to open a bleary eye, with Chuck snapping awake with a start moments after. "What was that?"

"The jeep tried to run me off the road," Sarah panted. "I'm pretty sure it's real." Casey eyed her suspiciously, which pissed her off royally. "What? You think I imagined a murderous jeep?"

He responded by shoving Chuck off of him, and grunting as he climbed into the front seat. "I'll take a turn at the wheel, and see if any mystery vehicles pass us. In the meantime, just get some sleep."

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly, and sat back next to Chuck. Once his head of curly hair was relaxed in her lap again, she felt relaxed enough to go to sleep, dreaming of jeeps and headlights all the time.

Muttering under his breath, Casey continued to navigate the car eastward. He wondered why he hadn't followed his general policy towards everything; if you want something done right, do it yourself. Oh, that's right--because he hadn't slept in thirty-six hours. And that's the point where you begin to doubt your own sanity. If there was any light he thought he was going to see, it was that light at the end of the tunnel. As much as he wondered if he was cracking up, he felt doubly about Walker. Headlights in the middle of the night in the wastelands of Nevada? Impossible. Or had they passed into New Mexico yet?

After another hour at the wheel, Casey gave up and shook Walker awake again. "Your mystical lights apparently decided to go to bed," he grumbled. "Your turn to drive."

Confused as hell, Sarah took the driver's seat back again, and set the car in gear. What if she was cracking up? The entire mission had taken quite a toll on her; especially in the area of--

Nope. Wasn't gonna think about him.

--

After Morgan and Lester had split the bill at the bar (Jeff had conveniently forgotten his wallet), they lingered for a while, all thinking the same thing; where do we go first?

"I've got it," Jeff slurred, having been cut off on his ninth Bud Lite. "We go to Mexico."

"C'mon, Jeff, be reasonable here, buddy!" Morgan said, slapping Jeff on the back. He was a little tipsy himself. "Does Casey even look the slightest bit Mexican? No, no," he murmured. "It's gotta be somewhere all of them would know…somewhere that should be right in front of us…"

"Vegas!" Lester shrieked, and collapsed in a fit of giggles.

Morgan fingered his beard. "I wouldn't be opposed to a side trip in Vegas, but…ah," he sighed. "I know it. I knew it. I have known it all along!" he shouted, slamming his fist down on the table. Then he sat back in his chair, silent.

"What?" Jeff asked bluntly.

Morgan leaned in, and put his arms around his two drunk companions. "Where do you tell people you're going whenever you're not going to go there, but want them not to know you're not going there then, even though maybe you secretly are?" he asked mysteriously, and while his cohorts tried to catch up with his thought process, he interrupted. "You tell them the place you intended to go, all along!"

"Van Winkle!" Jeff roared, and then passed out on the bar.

"Vancouver," Lester whispered, eyes twitching with excitement.

"Vancouver," Morgan nodded sagely, and he and Lester toasted one last time before both collapsing next to Jeff at the bar.

The bartender shook his head slowly, pushing his wasted customers off his formerly clean stools, creating room for more patrons. "People these days," he muttered flatly, pouring himself another shot of whiskey. "Next time I call Buy More for a computer emergency, I'll know exactly what kind of help I'm gonna get."

--

Former CIA Agent Tucker Burns almost skipped through the long hallway in the Fulcrum Extended Confinement Center. This could be, perhaps, the finest moment in his career, or, at least, the most memorable so far. The assignment he'd had with Agents Turner and Hearly wasn't near as exciting as this moment, although he'd paid dearly for it. Months and months stuck in this damned building in the middle of nowhere had been absolutely dreadful, following an agonizing beginning. It didn't even have air conditioning, refrigerators, or heaters, for when the desert nights became deadly cold.

He now understood why he'd been called in, though; he was certainly the most qualified man for the job. While sometimes lacking in judgment and fighting ability, as he was able to grudgingly admit to himself, all the years that he'd spent in the CIA had sharpened his one definite skill; locating missing subjects.

Smiling as he strode down the walkway, shoes clacking confidently, Burns planned how he'd inform his superiors he'd tracked down the location of numbers one, two, three, four and five on the current Most Wanted list. It was imperative not to sound too boastful, but no one else was going to get credit for his masterful expertise.

Burns, you are a goddamned genius, he told himself self-assuredly as he knocked loudly on the door of the office of his directors. However, he was in for a bad surprise.

The door cracked open far enough for an eye to look out. "Agent Nedley has already informed us of your success in pin-pointing the location of the subjects," a deep voice whispered. Burns kept his poker face, although he was a little pissed Nedley had beat him to the punch. At least he hadn't chosen to keep the credit for himself.

"You have served our organization well, Mr. Burns," it continued. Burns continued smiling until the barrel of an M16 peeked out of the crack in the door. That was when the full meaning of the deep-voiced-man's words hit him.

"No--no!" he shouted, putting his hands up defenselessly. "Don't--"

The sound of a gunshot echoed through the building. At the main desk downstairs, the secretary jumped, and looked around furtively. After a moment, he shrugged, and went back to eating his apple.

--

Anna shuffled about nervously on Chuck's doorstep. The last time she'd had contact with Ellie hadn't gone so well--in fact, it had been terrible. Now, she still couldn't believe she was enlisting the help of Chuck's sister who just happened to be constantly trying to steal her boyfriend. And, if she predicted correctly, neither would Ellie.

Finally, she got up enough gumption to ring the doorbell, and she heard Ellie inside. "I'll get it, babe," she told that shallow boy toy--er, fiancé, in her ridiculously sing-song-y voice. Anna shuddered, but composed herself as the door opened.

"Oh--Anna! What an, uh, a lovely surprise!" Ellie squeaked artificially.

Anna rolled her eyes. "Okay, Ellie, let's be honest, here; we're probably never going to like each other. At all." Ellie nodded cautiously. "And I'm not going to say anything about how you're constantly trying to seduce my beloved Morgan even though you've got Mr. Meathead over there--" Ellie opened her mouth, concealing anger with awkward surprise. "But, I've got a problem. And it involves you."

"Come in," Ellie said through her teeth. "What's this problem?" Anna plopped down on the couch, and not-so-gently rumpled all the pillows. Once she was comfortable, she began.

"This morning, Morgan decided to run off with Jeff and Lester."

Ellie's hand shot up to her mouth. "Oh, I'm so sorry--"

"I wasn't finished," Anna snapped. "The three of them decided they were going to find Chuck."

"But he's in Van--"

"If you stop interrupting, this will go a lot faster," Anna said, false pleasantry in her tone. Ellie shut her mouth. "You see, for almost a week, now, they've had this crazy notion that John Casey--your neighbor, right?--was up to something criminal. Yesterday night, some tapes were stolen from Morgan's room that had a lot of information on them about Casey. This morning, neither Chuck nor Casey showed up at work."

"I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation," Ellie said, tilting her head.

"That's what I thought, too," Anna defended, "And that's why I chose not to go with them. Morgan promised to call me around nine o'clock, but it's ten thirty, and he still hasn't called!" she cried, starting to become hysterical. "I don't know where they are, and I don't even know if my baby boy is all right!" she sobbed, seeking refuge in Ellie's shoulder.

Ellie awkwardly patted her hair for a few moments, and then sat straight up, letting Anna's head fall to the couch. "You know, Chuck was supposed to call me as soon as his flight got in," she mused. "And that should've been a couple hours ago…Anna, if you'll just hold on, I'm going to give him a call."

Her fingers flew across the numbers on her cell, too anxious to look up Chuck in her contacts. The call went straight to voicemail. Ellie dumbly stared at the phone until his recorded message was over.

"That's strange," she muttered. "He never turns his phone off." She realized she was speaking to empty air. "Anna? Anna?" For a moment, she hoped Anna had decided to leave, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Over here!" her high-pitched voice called from outside the Casa Bartowski. When Ellie peeked her head out the door, she discovered that, more accurately, Anna was inside Casey's house.

"Anna!" she screamed in horror. "What do you think you're doing?! Quick, get out of there before someone sees you!" she whisper shouted, looking around her desperately.

To her surprise, Anna stepped through the door back into the courtyard. However, the first thing she did was grab Ellie's arm, and drag her toward Casey's place. "Ellie, there's something I think you should see," she warned anxiously, genuine worry in her eyes. Which, naturally, Ellie ignored.

She removed herself from Anna's grasp, and stood in the courtyard between Casey's and her own apartment with her hands on her hips. "I don't care what you found, Anna, I'm not breaking and entering into my own neighbor's. That's criminal activity," she sniffed, and turned away.

Anna rolled her eyes. "The door was open, stupid," she defended, glaring at her nemesis. _Damn her, the boyfriend-stealing bitch…how dare she treat me like that, when she's the real trash!_

Cocking her head to the side, Ellie considered Anna critically. "You know, that's your main problem," she thought out loud. "If you treated other people more kindly, then maybe they wouldn't--hey!" she yelled at Anna's retreating form, escaping from Ellie's analysis of her flaws via Casey's entryway. Ellie shrugged, squinted, and continued. "Maybe then, if you didn't leave when people were in the middle of sentences, you would gain more respect, and you could actually work out your problems, instead of--"

As Anna exited Casey's, something she had in her hand caught the light.

Ellie's jaw dropped. "Stealing?! Anna, I have half a mind to--oh, my god," she gasped. "Oh, my god. That isn't--" Anna nodded. "That is…oh, my god." She sat down on the fountain in the courtyard, while Anna stared on, halfway sympathetic and halfway I-told-you-so.

In her hand was a beaten up, broken, and cracked version of Chuck's iPhone, that Anna had found on Casey's kitchen floor.

--

In the back seat of the Herder, Morgan was caught in a nightmare. As he thrashed around, he murmured a few unintelligible words about threatening sandwich meats, and woke up with a start. The first thing he saw was a sign about the historical site in the middle of a Nevada desert they were about to pass.

"Lester," he called, snapping his fingers to get the driver's attention. "Didn't we agree on Vancouver?" he asked suspiciously, wondering if Lester and Jeff had decided to overthrow him behind his back and take a stop in Vegas before doing anything Chuck related.

"Yeah--great plan, by the way," he approved. "Go to the place they said they were going but aren't because there's something crazy going on but really are was a really original idea." He chuckled. "Just imagine--us coming to Chuck's rescue! He'll owe us for years!"

Morgan laughed with a still tipsy Lester for a little while, and, having slept off most of his hangover, was experiencing a rare moment of clarity. "Yeah, yeah, great and all, but if we're going to Vancouver, then why did we just pass into Nevada?"

Lester scratched his head. "Isn't Vancouver on the East Coast?"

Although Morgan was experiencing a moment of clarity, it still wasn't very clear. He considered for a moment, and decided Lester was right. "Well, I did fail my high school geography class. I'll trust you, Lester."

Morgan would come to learn only now just how dangerous those words could be.

--

A Fulcrum operative working at the New Mexico base at the Extended Confinement Center dialed a six digit number on his cell phone. He listened intently for a few minutes, occasionally scribbling something down on scrap of paper, and then hung up with a sense of purpose. When he shoved the paper in his pocket, a piece of it was torn off, and fell to the floor. He neglected to notice this, and briskly walked out of the central area into the garage, and emerged from the FECC a moment later in a large, black Hummer.

A few minutes later, an amateur agent saw the scrap of paper on the floor, and picked it up to throw it away. He'd almost let go of it above the trash can when, carefully making sure no one was watching him, he took a second glance at it. There were five names one it:

_Sarah Lisa Walker_

_Jonathon Clyde Casey_

_Charles Irving Bartowski_

_Diane Elizabeth Beckman_

_David Samuel Graham_

The agent paused, and bit his lip as he tried to remember where he had seen all of the names before. In spite of this, his eyes traveled down to the bottom of the page, just before the rip. There were only three words, but they managed to jar him in a way he was only beginning to get used to.

_Terminate on sight._

_--_

Sarah took her hands off the wheel for a moment to stretch, and saw the sun beginning to come up over the horizon. It had been a long, long day; one of the longest she'd ever experienced. With a smiled, she recalled the phantom Jeep that had haunted her last night; it had to have been a dream. After all, she hadn't seen it since Casey had taken over the wheel and given it back to her. She smiled slightly, as she considered that maybe even phantom cars would be scared away by Casey.

Yawning, Sarah decided that it would be a good time to hand the torch to someone else; she'd put in her shift. She reveled in the silence of the car, knowing that as soon as she woke one other person, it wouldn't stay that way for long. And the sunrise was so beautiful…

On a sudden urge, she stopped the car and climbed out her side. She went over to Chuck's door, and tapped him on his shoulder gently. When his eyes opened sleepily, she held a finger up to her lips, and led him by his hand out the door and onto the side of the road.

"Good morning," he greeted, smiling drowsily and rather crookedly. Sarah suppressed a giggle, and instead took his hand. Although he jumped slightly at her touch, he certainly didn't seem to reject it.

"It's a beautiful sunrise, this morning," she noted, falling into his eyes. A bomb could have dropped on the car, destroying all of their surroundings, and it was doubtable she could notice at all. In fact, she was so oblivious that she forgot everyone who was around her as she closed her eyes leaned in toward Chuck with her lips leading the way. Well, she did know on a subconscious level, but chose not to care.

However, her lips didn't connect with Chuck's; they sort of grazed across his ear. "Sarah," he mumbled nervously, leaning away from her. "I--"

Chuck instantly regretted pulling away from Sarah's kiss. He was sure she was delirious from pulling an all-nighter, and not thinking correctly, but the way she blushed and turned away betrayed more of her sorrow in being rejected than she might have liked.

"Listen," he began, wishing his voice would sound a bit stronger, bolder. "You know it's not that I don't want to--"

"So let's," she interrupted, grasping his face and mashing her lips against his before he even had a chance to protest.

"Sarah, no," he finally choked out, and she only shook her head and stared up into his brown eyes, looking hurt. "I can't keep doing this, okay? You get mad at me, and I don't even know why, and then all of a sudden, you kiss me or something, just out of the blue. I'm not that strong, Sarah. I can't just keep getting tossed around, and I think we both know that you aren't really interested in being the slightest bit committed to anyone, much less me--and what is that?" he asked, incredulous, completely derailed from his diatribe.

Sarah had been planning on telling him how wrong he was, and how much she'd love to become committed to him, but instead, was too shocked at the sight of her spectre, the Jeep, to speak at all.

"Chuck, get back in the car," she ordered hoarsely. "Go!" she shouted, when he hesitated. She dove back into the driver's seat, as the Jeep's speed increased. Having no other options, she slammed on the gas, pitching everyone in the car forward.

"What the hell?" Casey, Kaden, and Bryce said simultaneously, while the General and Director just looked confused. Chuck was too busy trying to buckle his seatbelt to make any remark.

"Casey, the Jeep is very real," Sarah shouted over the scream of the engine being pushed to its limit.

"Looks like its matching Hummer of a brother is very real, too," Kaden said sarcastically, and adding, "Twelve o'clock, Sarah." Sure enough, a giant black Hummer was stretched across the road, preventing any passing.

"What do I do?!" Sarah screeched in anguish, while everyone stared on in horror. "_What do I DO_!?!"

"Just pull over," a defeated Director Graham muttered gruffly. "You can't beat them. You can't lose them. Best to get it over with, and deal with the consequences later." At everyone's questioning stares, he added, "The Fulcrum base isn't far from here; it has to be them."

Sarah stopped the car, tears of distress streaming down her face. Kaden, for once, was deadly serious. Chuck shook, considering that when he'd said goodbye to Ellie and Awesome, it could've been for the last time. Casey took out his favorite gun, and looked at it as if he was considering putting it up to his own head. Bryce was consumed by the fury of his anger--towards Fulcrum, towards his life, towards everything.

A man exited the Hummer, wearing a cocky expression and a Kevlar suit. "They warned me you'd be trouble," he smirked, gesturing to his suit. "But this time, you're caught. We have you, and there won't be any more of this ridiculous hide-and-seek game we've been putting up with for a long time. If you escape, we'll catch you again." He smiled sardonically. "You can't win this game," he said, shaking his head. "You're gonna lose, and in this world, losing is dying."

A/N: A little Charah, a little violence, a little mystery, and a few drunken nerds...what more can you ask for?


End file.
